


Once Lost

by saxgoddess25



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Children of Earth Fix-It, M/M, Masturbation, Peril, some dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 20:29:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saxgoddess25/pseuds/saxgoddess25
Summary: The end is where we start from. This fix-it picks up from where TW: Children of Earth left off. It is just one example of how Ianto Jones could easily be reinstated into the story.Trigger warning: there is a scene between Jack and Ianto in chapter 2 that I consider to walk the line of dubcon. If you have any consent issue triggers, be mindful of that when reading.





	1. A Wretch Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally published to Livejournal, and then FF in 2010. Since I never cross posted it to AO3, here it is, updated and with some minor editing. Nothing in the plot has changed, just some grammar cleanup.

“Excuse me, Dr. Jones,” the researcher sees the raised eyebrow directed at her and amends quickly, “um…Martha.  Do you have a moment?”

Martha hugs her clipboard against her chest while she considers the request.  She’s just on her way to meet up with Gwen for lunch and she is interested to hear how the plans for Torchwood Cardiff’s revitalization are coming.  Something about the thin woman in the immaculate lab coat piques Martha’s interest, however, so she inclines her head slightly.  Gwen won’t mind if she’s a bit late.  “Yeah, sure.  What is it, Claire?”

“Well, I’ve found something that I wanted to speak with you about.”  Claire leads the way back into the laboratory from which she’d emerged a few seconds before.  “One of the teams isolated this a week or so back and I’ve sort of been tinkering with it.”

She picks up a large flask with a rubber stopper in the end and holds it up so that Martha can see a faintly gelatinous blue substance swishing around in the bottom.  Another raised eyebrow sets Claire to clearing her throat. 

“It’s extraterrestrial in origin, as you probably guessed, and it seems to have some very interesting disease fighting properties.  In fact,” her voice drops to a murmur as though she’s afraid someone might overhear, “we believe that it may completely obliterate viral infections.  Think of the possibilities this could have in dealing with HIV!  Or even the deadly strains of influenza that seem to crop up every few years.  What’s more, it seems to work not only on viruses in living tissue but also those that linger for a while after the death of the host.  We just need to run more trials to determine whether the preliminary findings are accurate and can be replicated.”

Claire’s face is flushed with a sort of academic bliss, as though she’s already making a spot in her trophy cabinet for the Nobel Prize.  Martha feels almost sad that she’ll have to bring the young woman back down to Earth.

“All right, Claire.  So let me get this straight.  You’re saying that you want to try this stuff out on dead people?”

“Well, the right sort of dead people but yes!  Precisely!  Can you imagine what this could do for the living if it manages to resurrect someone that has actually _died_?”

Martha isn’t so sure that is a good thing but it does bring up an interesting scientific possibility.  It would also be far less difficult than carrying out experiments on living people.  As she knows quite well from experience, there are all sorts of things that could go awry, especially when testing anything having to do with aliens.

“And basically what you’re asking me for are the test subjects, yeah?”

“That’s exactly right.”  Claire waits, watching hopefully.  Martha thinks it over for a few seconds and then shrugs.

“All right.  I think we still have a few suitable candidates in cryo; you could try it out on them.  If your new alien antiviral can cure _those_ folks,” and she can’t manage to keep the doubt from her voice as she says it, “then we’ll talk about seeing what other miracles it can perform."

 

* * *

 

Jack is having the dreams again.  He bolts upright out of a deep slumber, gasping for air and covered in clammy sweat.  He’s no stranger to nightmares but the ones he’s been having recently are worse than anything he’s ever known.  It isn’t just that they are about Ianto.  At least, he tells himself that.  In every dream he is subjected to sheer anguish, no matter what actually happens in the dreamscape – and what happens there always changes.

After the life (or should he say lives?) that he’s been forced to lead, he is used to pain and suffering, but this…

He passes a trembling hand over his forehead.  All of this is much, much worse than he’s gone through before.  He thinks he’d rather take physical torture over this type of hell any day.

Jack’s bare feet hit the floor and he pauses for a long moment, this time scrubbing a hand through his hair.  He feels like shit.  What is more, he feels like he _deserves_ to feel like shit.  Well, he does, for so many reasons.

Pushing up off the bed, he reaches automatically for his trousers.  After a little work he manages to pull the form-fitting leather up around his thighs and shifts everything into place before lacing them up.  He misses the retro Earth fashion sometimes, the loose drape of the trousers and the comforting feel of braces snug over his shoulders.  And always, of course, there was the coat.

He put all that away months ago, locked securely in his trunk along with the few mementos he’s managed to salvage from the wreckage of his life.  If only the memories were so easy to pack away.

In true “Captain Jack Harkness” style, he’s reinvented himself once again, becoming once more the charming drifter, con man extraordinaire.  Even so, he’s certainly not the same man that the Universe knew before The Doctor and Rose, before Torchwood, before Ianto Jones.

Oh how unfair it is that a name can hurt so much after two years.  None of the other loves of his life have hurt this much for this long.  He tries to forget, really he does, but he simply can’t.  Maybe it was the way in which Ianto died – the sheer, utter pointlessness of it all.  All Jack knows is that to dwell on it leads to darkness, darkness that he doesn’t want to face right now.

The fine Antillian-made fibre of the shirt ghosts over his skin as he pulls it on.  He barely notices.  On some subconscious level it reminds him of silk but he’s never really thought about it.  Much like he never thinks about how he came up with the money for his trendy clothes, nor his high-class suite of rooms on one of the most exclusive stations in the Triangulum Galaxy, nor the perfectly fitted boots that he slips on over his feet. 

The money’s there.  That’s all he cares about.  Now if only money could buy peace of mind.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he scoffs into the darkness, “what a trite load of crap that is.”  That doesn’t keep it from being true.

Finally he shoves the gun into the holster at his hip.  It’s not the old Webley; that’s in the trunk too.  Nor does he need to be armed, of course.  Death hurts, but for him at least it doesn’t last long.  Jack wears the gun because that’s who he is – who he’s been for a very long time now.  It does what he wants it to do.  It keeps people from getting too close.

Tossing his black leather jacket around his shoulders and shoving his arms through the sleeves, he pushes his way through the bedroom door and then out of the apartment. 

The station’s always jumping no matter what the numbers on the chronometer say, and he’s tempted to go on the pull, tempted to drown his sorrows in a pretty young thing with grey eyes.  They all have grey eyes these days.  He knows it won’t make anything better but he peruses the goods on display anyway.

There is one boy…a dark-haired, blue-eyed bit-of-all-right that turns Jack’s head for a second look, flashes a come-on smile.  Jack’s tempted but only for a moment.  “See something you like, Sir?”  Jack hears the query in Ianto’s lilting Welsh tones and his heart hurts.  He turns away with a shake of his head.

“Suit yourself.”

He hasn’t walked much farther before he hears someone call his name.  Jack knows that voice well.  It’s one of the _last_ people he wants to see right now.  He stops anyway, waiting until a hand falls on his shoulder and pulls him to face the shorter man.

“Never thought I’d find you _here_.”

“John,” he nods at his former lover and just watches him, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“You look…” Hart trails off as his eyes rake all the way down Jack’s body and then all the way back up again.  There is an uncomfortable moment of déjà vu.  John barks a laugh that Jack thinks is more than a little self-conscious.  “You look gorgeous, actually.  All right, a bit skinny, but I’m glad that you finally lost the old Earth, car-boot-sale look.”

Jack doesn’t rise to the bait.  If things were different, he might.  Instead he tries to read John’s face.  It doesn’t look like there’s much more than the usual needy insecurity there.  Jack doesn’t want to deal with _that_ bullshit either.  “What are you doing out here?”

“This and that.”  Purposely vague as always.  Doesn’t matter.  John’s expression and tone become accusatory.  “I stayed on Earth for _you_ you know, hoping that you’d come around.  Imagine my surprise when I came back to Cardiff – after what I thought was a suitable mourning period for your team, mind – and found you gone.  Scarpered off from the Earth without so much as a message to let me know what the fuck was going on.”

Jack remains unmoved.  His voice is sarcastic.  “So sorry to be such an inconvenience to _you_.”  Oh fuck, even talking about this makes him hurt and he has to close his eyes for a long minute.

“I heard about Eye Candy.”  John’s voice is soft.  That doesn’t keep Jack from clenching his jaw tight, or his hands into fists at his sides.

“His name was Ianto!”

There is silence and he opens his eyes.  He sees pity in John’s gaze and somehow that’s worse than if the man didn’t give a damn at all.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”  _So am I.  God, Ianto, you don’t even know how much._   The silence lingers between the two of them for a long minute.  Finally Jack mutters, “He should have had more.”

“Yes, well, _we_ should have had more too,” always the one with the quicksilver temper, John has apparently just lost his patience, “but _you_ ran away.  You are _always_ running away!”  John’s hands settle on his hips, arms akimbo.  “For someone who has styled himself as the hero, you’re _such_ a bloody coward!”

Jack stares at him for several seconds and then punches him square in the nose.  God, that feels good!  He hasn’t punched anyone in ages.  Of course John punches him right back.  Jack’s cheek stings and he throws a right hook, catching John on the edge of his jaw, rocking him off balance. Once he’s recovered, he barrels forward and catches Jack in the solar plexus.

Now how many times have they done _this_ over the years?  It usually ends in the two of them snogging each other’s faces off and then shagging against any convenient wall, table, instrument panel, chair…

Jack won’t let that happen this time but damn, fighting feels so good right now. 

Before long, their energy starts to wane and Jack falls against the nearest wall, panting.  John moves toward him instantly but Jack holds out his arm, preventing him from getting too close.  “No, John.  I know you can’t accept this but I don’t want to spend my eternity with you.”

“Why not?”  The hurt petulance is back in full force.  Jack sighs.

“You don’t get that I’ve grown past you, do you?  Look, you’re a brilliant fuck and I’ll admit we’ve had some good times but you’re like a bloody teenager.  You said it yourself the first time you looked me up on Earth, rehab didn’t work.  You don’t know how to be an adult and what’s more, you don’t want to be!”  Jack pauses, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, “I have lived so long…too long to put up with that shit anymore.”

Jack’s speech seems to give John some food for thought because for once he doesn’t argue.  The silence between them doesn’t last as long as Jack would like but he believes that maybe John will think more about it later.

“I’m still not giving up on you.”  He smiles when Jack groans.  “As a peace offering I’ll leave you alone,” Jack thinks he must have been looking too hopeful because John gives him a wicked grin, “for tonight.  Oh, but I almost forgot. I was given a message to convey if I happened to come across you.”

“And what message is that?”

“Little Gwen wants you to come home.”  John still smiles.  “She says she has something important to tell you.”

“I’m sure she does.”  Jack sighs, letting some of the pain show again.  “I can’t go back there.  I tried.”

“Then maybe you should try again.”

The comment and the look that accompany it are enigmatic.  Jack opens his mouth to ask what the hell he means but true to form, John simply turns and walks away.

 

* * *

 

Jack tosses his head, knocking a few strands of sweaty hair back from his forehead and shoves his hips forward more aggressively.  The boy beneath him gives a desperate groan and wriggles.  He’s getting close, Jack can tell.  This one is younger than he likes, barely twenty, but he’s so enthusiastic.  Even Jack’s rough treatment of him doesn’t appear to dampen the spirit he’d first exhibited when Jack made a move on him at the club.  Jack’s a sucker for a rebel.  Always has been.

Leaning down, he bites the boy’s shoulder, drawing a gasp and the boy – whose name is Alain but Jack doesn’t really care about that – arches his back, begging for more.  Jack obliges, biting him again as he thrusts in deep as he can.  

He thinks maybe next time he’ll take an older lover, someone with experience who will take possession of him, use Jack hard like Jack is using this boy.  After that, who knows?  Maybe a woman.  It’s been a while since he’s been with a woman.  Hell, maybe he’ll find a pair of women.  Maybe twins.  He’s always fancied twins.

The body beneath him tenses and the boy cries out.  He gives the prettiest shudder as he pours his cum onto the sheets beneath him.  Jack lets his chin rest on the nape of the boy’s neck as he keeps to his rhythm, not letting up for an instant.  The boy might be spent but he keeps things interesting and Jack is again glad for his choice. 

Finally, he can take no more and his whole body clenches tight in violent climax.  He’s caught motionless for the span of several heartbeats, then it’s like every muscle has turned to water and he collapses heavily against the fit young body.  Alain doesn’t seem to mind that Jack has moaned somebody else’s name and Jack is grateful for that too.

In the afterglow, Jack finds some peace.  It’s always fleeting, leaving him wanting more, just like some kind of heavy drug.  Sadly, he realizes that he could never screw enough to make the peace last.  It suffices to numb the pain a few times a week. Sometimes he even manages to sleep through the night afterward.  At least he has been able to finish this time.  After what happened with the last fellow, that in itself is a blessing.

Jack slowly withdraws from his lover of the evening and rolls over onto his back, one arm tossed carelessly over his eyes.  He feels the boy shift and snuggle in against his side.  Warm breath tickles his ear and Jack shivers a little. 

“D’ya want me to stay?” 

“That would be nice.”  Jack’s nearly asleep already and the strong arm that wraps around his chest coaxes him down into the abyss.

When he wakes in the morning Alain is gone.  So is Jack’s leather coat.  That makes him laugh.  He’s got three more in the closet and even if he didn’t, he’d just go buy a new one.  It’s his fault for choosing a rogue after all.

Jack rolls out of the rumpled bed and heads to the bathroom.  As he steps into the shower he thinks about John’s message.  It’s been three days since he saw his ex-lover and he’s managed to put off doing anything about it.  Maybe he is a coward like John said.  Jack doesn’t want to think of himself like that but yeah, maybe it’s true.

By the time Jack’s through in the shower he thinks he’s made a decision.  He owes it to Gwen to at least hear what she thinks is so damned important.  Going back will also give him a chance to meet her baby.  Jack imagines the look of pride that will cross Gwen’s face when she shows him the rugrat and that makes him smile.  Part of him hopes the child is a girl.  He’s not sure how he will be able to react around a little boy.  Not after what he’s done.

Toweling off, Jack walks out into his bedroom and over to the trunk in the corner.  He settles his palm atop the lid and waits.  There is a clicking sound and a soft whoosh as the bio scanner recognizes his identity and allows him access.

The greatcoat is folded on top and he pulls it out, letting the woolen fabric fall free.  Even though this is not the original that he wore for years, it still feels like an old friend and he sets it gently aside for the time being.

Each piece of clothing that he pulls from the chest is given a shake and then is set out on the foot of the bed, waiting to be put on, but he’s not quite ready to wear them yet.  Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he realizes that he’s in desperate need of a shave.  At least it will postpone the inevitable for a few more minutes. 

Before long he’s back at the bed, staring at the familiar garments once more.  He has to force himself to reach out for the white cotton t-shirt – no fine Antillian fibre here – and tug it on over his head.  After that it gets easier.  _Just like riding a bike._   He can’t remember the last time he’s ridden a bike.  That’s beside the point.

Once he slides the braces into place, he sits on the bed to put on the boots.  Those are the first things that actually fit well.  Everything else is rather baggy.  Jack hasn’t noticed his body changing that much, but he really only eats enough to keep from starving so perhaps it was inevitable.

The belt with its worn leather holster comes next.  He looks at the clock on the wall.  If he’s going to do this, he hasn’t got a lot of time.  The next transport bound in the direction of Earth is at 1300 and it’s nearly 1130 now. 

He slings the jacket on, loving the way it swishes around his calves.  Funny that a man never realizes how much he misses something until it’s gone.

Jack makes sure the trunk is securely locked again before he leaves.  He’s still got a few precious possessions in there and he doesn’t want them disappearing while he’s gone.  It could be some time before he’s back.

Finally he’s leaving, striding off to the landing bay to arrange the transport.  A quick visit to a currency trader he’s friendly with provides him enough Earth cash to keep him fed for a while.  He also has a writ in his pocket, just in case he needs to draw on more of his savings once he gets there.

Everything’s good enough to be going on with, he thinks as he settles on board the vessel.  It’s a fast ship so he should be back on Earth in a few days.  Jack catches a female Crespallion looking at him, her violet-grey eyes gleaming as she flashes him a shy grin.  He gives her a look and a return smile spreads across his lips.  He just might get a bit of sleep on the journey as well.

 

* * *

_This was a mistake_ , he tells himself as he walks along the bank of the Thames.  He’s come to London first since he was not sure he could face the streets of Cardiff yet, but there are so many bad memories here.  It’s especially tough because there are men in sharp suits everywhere.

There have already been at least a dozen times that he’s seen a man out of the corner of his eye and thought it was Ianto.  He even followed one bloke for three blocks before the fellow turned his head, letting Jack see that his face looked nothing like Torchwood’s deceased archivist. 

Jack turns up a random street, heading back toward his lodgings and his heart skips again as he sees another young man fitting Ianto’s general description walking up ahead.  Jack’s furious with himself for following but he does it anyway.  Evening’s coming on and the guy’s probably on his way home or heading out for drinks with his mates.

The man makes several turns and Jack follows resolutely, not paying much attention to his surroundings.  He’s catching up with him even though the crowds on the street are getting thicker.  As he inches closer, he realizes just how much this man reminds him of Ianto.  If only he could see the face, then he would know.

He knows already, of course, that this can’t be Ianto because Ianto is dead.  Jack died at his side, too stupid to even tell him that he loved him.  Perhaps that is why there isn’t a single inch of Jack that doesn’t hurt to be back here.

Suddenly, Jack stops.  The man he has been trailing has vanished, apparently swallowed up by the crowd. Jack looks frantically up and down the street. Can the figure he’s been following have been just a figment of Jack’s overwrought imagination?  He presses his fingers to his temples, squeezing his eyes tight shut and then looks around again. 

An elderly woman nearby is giving him a look full of concern but there is nobody within the area that looks like Ianto.

Jack hurries back to his hotel.

Once inside his room, he shuts the door and falls back against it.  He feels angry and frustrated at himself for spending an entire day chasing ghosts.  His emotions are raw, wounds that won’t heal no matter what he does to bind them. 

Jack’s hand drops to his crotch without his giving it any conscious thought at first.  The flush of excitement he felt when chasing the Ianto look-alike, combined with the darker emotions that followed, have left him in quite a state.  He squeezes his erection and runs a palm over the fabric of his trousers.  With his eyes closed, he can almost imagine it’s another man’s touch.  If Jack’s going to chase the shade of a dead man all over London, he thinks that the least it can do is give him a hand.

After a moment he undoes his belt and flings it onto the floor, gun and all.  Then he practically rips the fly of his trousers open so that he can get at bare flesh.  He groans as his hand makes contact and starts stroking.  The collar of his coat cushions his neck a little as his chin raises and his head presses against the door. 

He can remember the way Ianto used to touch him, tentatively at first and then warming to the task.  Jack would press his pelvis into the man’s touch and Ianto would squeeze him, oh, just like that…

A twist of the wrist and Jack would moan, like he does now, every time.  Short, quick strokes alternate with long, slow ones, keeping Jack on edge, never letting him get completely comfortable.

Jack is breathing hard now, his hips keeping time with the tempo of his hand.  His free hand lays flat on his lower belly, fingers half-circling the base of his cock, providing just the right tension for the upstroke.  His buttocks keep losing contact with the door and then slapping back lightly as he thrusts into thin air.  The memory of Ianto’s soft voice torments him even though he can’t make sense of any words.  It is simply a light buzzing in his head.

It’s not long before Jack can’t take it anymore and gives a choked cry as he shoots his load.  He stands there for a moment afterward, trembling, and then he sinks unceremoniously to the floor.  The horror of everything crashes in on him once again and all he can do is sob for a long time.  It was a mistake to come back to Earth but he’s here now and he’s being forced to face his demons.

A while later, once he has himself under control again, Jack resolves to go see Gwen the next day.  With his task completed, he will be free to get the hell off of this rock and back to his new life far away. 

 

* * *

 

It takes Jack a bit longer to find Gwen than he thought it would.  She and Rhys finally settled on a house and it turns out to be a cozy sort of place with a small front garden.  He steps through the gate and up the path, pausing for an instant with his finger hovering near the buzzer.  From inside the house he can just hear the cheerful din of a child running amok.  He swallows hard and then presses the button on the doorframe.

“Just a minute!” 

He waits.  The door is wrenched open and he’s face to face with Gwen.  Her eyes widen in surprise.

“Jack!”  He can’t even react before she’s hugging him, hard.  Jack rests his chin on the top of her head and hugs her in return.  The lump in his throat refuses to go away and he hears her murmur, “Jesus, you’re just skin and bones!”

She pulls back, holding him at arm’s length to inspect him.  It is such a motherly look that it almost makes him laugh.  “Jack Harkness, have you eaten at all since you left?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.”  He tries to bluster through with a smile but it doesn’t feel like it quite settles onto his face.  A light tugging comes at the hem of his coat and he looks down to see a pair of very curious brown eyes peering up at him from a chubby face.

Gwen follows his gaze, smiling, and bends to pick up her son.  The beam of pride is there as she settles the boy on her hip, just like Jack had predicted it would be.

“Jack Harkness…I’d like you to meet Jack Williams.”

The elder Jack blinks.  “You named him ‘Jack?’”  He can’t keep the incredulity out of his voice.  “How did you _ever_ get Rhys to agree to that?”

Gwen levels him a look.  _Oh right._   He’s forgotten that she is super woman.

“Where is Rhys?” Jack peers down the hall behind Gwen, thinking to see the man himself lurking nearby. 

“Ah, he’s at work.  We take it in turns now that we have the little one.”  She turns around.  “But let’s not stay here chatting in the doorway.  Come in!”

Jack closes the door behind him and follows her to the kitchen.  He thinks how nice the house is and that he likes what she’s done with the decorating, though in his opinion it could use a pop of color.  Then he realizes just how gay that thought sounded, even to him, and snorts in amusement. 

Once in the kitchen, Gwen gestures him to a chair and sets little Jack on the floor.  The boy immediately starts to run in circles, drawing a genuine smile from him as he watches.

“Would you like some coffee, Jack?  Or maybe I could order in a pizza.  You look like you could eat a whole one by yourself.”

“No, I’m fine.  I’ll take a glass of water if you can spare it.”

“I might be able to manage.”

Mere moments later, she sets the glass in front of him and then has a seat across the table.  “I take it that John found you then?”  Jack nods and gives an affirmative hum into the water glass for good measure.

“He did,” Jack meets her gaze as he settles the glass back on the table, “I almost didn’t come back.  I wish I hadn’t.”

“Oh?”  Gwen tilts her head as she gives him one of her looks.  Jack thinks he sees some hurt lurking in her eyes.  “Nice to know we’re so missed.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it, Jack?  Please tell me because I’d honestly like to know.”

“I just…” He doesn’t want to explain this to her.  Gwen Cooper, of all people, should already bloody well know.  “There are too many memories here, too many ghosts.”

“Ah, well.”  It seems like there is something more she wants to say on the subject but she doesn’t.  “Seeing as how you _are_ here I do have something to show you.  If you think you could spare an hour or two?”

“I think I can do that.”  Little Jack runs into his leg and falls down giggling.  After sharing a glance with Gwen, and seeing her nod, the elder Jack reaches down and picks the boy up, situating him on his lap.  “Hi there, little man.  I’m Jack too.”

Little Jack just giggles again and looks at his mum.  She fills in the silence.  “Where have you been keeping yourself since you left?”

“Here and there.  I’m doing all right for myself.”

“Hmm.”  The look Gwen gives him lets Jack know she doesn’t believe that for an instant.

“What?  I am!”

“Did I say anything?”

“You don’t have to say anything, Gwen.”

“Oh no?  Well, maybe I should.  Maybe I should say how clear it is to me that you’re not doing all right at all.  You’re still blaming yourself for Ianto, am I right?”

Jack sets his jaw and just stares at her.  Of course he blames himself – for everything. 

“Well, am I?”  She gives him a look that is full of challenge and then tosses up her hands.  “Oh, I don’t know why I bother trying to talk to you Jack.  You’re always so bloody stubborn!”

“Now if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is.”

“And there’s you changing the subject.”

“Fine.  Yes!  I still blame myself.  I fucking miss him every day, all right?  Ever since I’ve been back on this planet I’ve been thinking I see him everywhere.  London, here…” His voice cracks.  “Now will you _please_ let me change the subject?”

Gwen reaches out and lays her hand atop his.  Before she can reply, they hear a voice from the kitchen doorway.  “What’s all this then?”

Jack turns toward the voice, noticing that Gwen withdraws her hand as he does so.  It’s Rhys.  When he recognizes Jack, he smiles.

“So the prodigal returns, does he?”  Rhys walks over to shake Jack’s hand and plucks his son off Jack’s lap, beaming.  “I see you met your namesake.”

“Yes I have.  The two of you do good work.”  He nods to Rhys and an unspoken sentiment passes between the two men.

“We try.”

“No more on the way?”

Gwen speaks up before Rhys can answer.  “I wanted a little time in between.  Maybe in a couple of years.  It’s a bit hard juggling work and a toddler.”

“I’ll bet.  So, you’re back with the force?”

The response he gets from Gwen is a soft laugh.  “As if.  No, I work for this semi-secret organization.  You might have heard of it in passing.  It’s called Torchwood.  Ring a bell?”

Jack simply stares at her so she goes on.  “I can’t claim to have done it on my own.  In fact, we still fall under the mantle of U.N.I.T. but Martha has done wonders.”

Feeling like this conversation is moving too fast for him, Jack holds up a hand.   “Martha Jones is running Torchwood?”

“Well technically I’m running Torchwood but it’s Martha that really got us going again.  That’s the major thing I wanted to show you.  We don’t exactly have a new ‘hub’ but we do have a pretty fair substitute.”

“You’ve rebuilt Torchwood.”  Jack still can’t quite believe it.

“The new government couldn’t very well leave an unattended rift in time and space on their doorstep, now could they?  It only made sense to rebuild the team.  Since I was the only one of us left, the task sort of fell to me.  As I said though, I’ve had help.”

The team.  Jack feels an excitement that he knows all too well bubble up inside of him.  Then he feels a pain in his heart as he thinks of all the members of his teams that he’s failed over the years.  That quickly puts a damper on the joy.

“So it’s you and Martha.  Anyone else I know?”

“Oh Martha just pops in to help from time to time.  She’s still pretty busy with R & D at U.N.I.T. to be with Torchwood full time.  You will recognize one or two faces though.”

Gwen gives an enigmatic smile, as if she is keeping some secret to herself.  “And now that my wonderful, gorgeous husband is home to look after Jack, I can take you to see them.”

“When do you think you’ll be home?” Rhys asks, turning toward the fridge, clearly intending to get supper started.

“Dunno, but I’ll give you a ring if it’s going to be more than a couple of hours.”

“Right.  Leftovers will be in the fridge if you’re late.”  His eyes flicker toward Jack for an instant.  “I’ll make extra, just in case.”

“Thank you, darling,” Gwen leans in for a kiss and Jack is a little jealous.  Okay, more than a little, but he ignores the feeling.

When Gwen goes to grab her coat and purse, Jack nods to Rhys.  “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too.”  Jack wonders if Rhys means it but he seems sincere enough.

“I’m glad things are going well for the two of you.”

“Yeah, can’t complain.”  Rhys puts a pan on the stove.  “Gwen’s still hell bent on saving the world, you know, but we manage.  Do you think you’ll be staying on?”

Jack shakes his head.  “Not likely.  I’ve got another home now in a galaxy far, far away.”  He offers a little smile at the attempted joke.  “It’s not much but it’s easier than being here.”

There’s another nod from Rhys as he turns to rummage in a cupboard.  “I wouldn’t make a hasty decision if I were you.  You never know what you might find to keep you here.”

Jack is just about to ask what Rhys means when Gwen reappears, looking apologetic.  “Sorry, just had a call from Lois.  It’s a good thing we’re going over because they’ve found something.  I couldn’t quite get it straight but we’ll see when we get there.”

“Lois.”  Jack tries to place the name.  Then he remembers.  “Lois Habiba?”

“That’s right.  She’s taken on part of the tech void left by Tosh.  At least, she tries.  She’s come a long way, bless her, but there’s been a lot for her to learn.  Tosh was a bloody genius after all.”  Gwen turns back to the hallway.  “Let’s go.  You can see more when you get there.”

 

* * *

 

 

The building used to be a warehouse.  Now it’s Torchwood headquarters, but it still _looks_ like a warehouse – at least from the outside.  It definitely doesn’t have the flair of the old hub, rather it’s functional and no-nonsense, much like its new leader. 

Gwen ushers him through the door and he can see that the interior is impressively outfitted with technology, both of the alien and human varieties.  She takes him on a tour of the building, obviously proud of the work that they’ve done rebuilding, and he thinks that she has every reason to be proud. 

The new headquarters, like the old hub, has a basement level that contains holding cells, a surgery and several other useful features.  It strikes Jack just how new everything is.  Sure, the shell of the building is old but everything else has a fresh from the showroom feel to it.  He’s not sure whether he likes that or not.  Jack has always been one to cling to the past.

During the tour, Gwen reintroduces him to Lois who gives him a warm smile and calls him “Captain” as she shakes his hand.  Next in line is Owen’s replacement, a tall, slender Moroccan named Rachid.  Jack’s first impression of the man is that he’s rather arrogant but then again, doctors often seem that way to Jack.  Owen always did.

Gwen and Jack are just about to head downstairs when a very familiar voice raises the hackles on the back of Jack’s neck.  “Ah, Gwen, you’re here.  I wondered if you…” the voice trails off as Jack turns around.  He thinks that he must have gone completely out of his mind because there at the top of the steps stands Ianto Jones, seemingly in the flesh and very much alive.

Jack’s head swivels back to Gwen, who is looking insufferably pleased with herself.  Not knowing what to do next, Jack just stands dumbfounded as Ianto proceeds the rest of the way up the stairs and stops in front of them.

“Hello, Jack.”

Jack is caught between wanting to cry from sheer delirious relief, to grab onto Ianto and never let go, or to start screaming at Gwen for not telling him that Ianto was alive the moment he rang her buzzer.

Even though he is caught in the crossfire of his conflicting emotions, Jack can’t miss a hint of distance in the other man that he can’t understand.  The urge to hug his former lover is at last too strong to ignore, and Jack throws his arms around Ianto.  There comes a momentary reluctance in Ianto’s return embrace, but at least it serves to reassure Jack that this Ianto is, in fact, real.

“Ianto,” Jack murmurs the name that has so often been on his mind, “oh God, I’ve missed you!”

“Jack.” Ianto pats his back, and after a few seconds pries himself out of Jack’s embrace.  The expression on his face is definitely cool but not exactly hostile.  It seems more like he is wary – as though he doesn’t know what to expect from Jack now.

Not really understanding why he is acting this way, Jack lets him go, his arms falling to his sides.  He thinks that the two of them need to have a talk as soon as possible.

Ianto turns to Gwen and picks up where he left off.  “I wondered if you and Martha had time to finish the report for the Prime Minister.  It was expected last week and they keep phoning.”

Gwen nods.  “I’ll get you the file so that you can send it over straight away.  The last thing we need is Erickson sniffing around here again.”

“Yes, indeed,” the assertion is accompanied by a nod.  “Would you two like some coffee?  I could have Lois make some up if you like.”

“You let someone else touch your coffee machine?”  Jack feels as though he’s slipped into a parallel dimension.  Everything here is so…odd.

“Technically it’s not his coffee machine any more.  He’s only been back with us for a few months.  Besides, the old one got destroyed with the hub.”

“Lois makes some damn good coffee anyway,” Ianto adds.

“I think we’re fine for now.  Thank you, Ianto.  I’ll get that file for you as soon as I’ve finished showing Jack around.”

Ianto nods, spares a last glance to Jack and heads off toward another part of the hub.  Jack realizes that he keeps thinking of the place as ‘the hub’ even though it’s not.

“If he doesn’t make the coffee, what does he do now?  And how the hell is he _back_?

Gwen looks in the direction Ianto disappeared to.  “He does everything.  Ianto gets us to where we’re going, makes sure everything keeps ticking along smoothly, and he _does_ keep us stocked with very good coffee.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about him when you got here.  I wanted it to be a surprise,” she turns her gaze back to him, “and I thought Ianto would be a little happier to see you.”

Jack nods, not knowing what to say.  He doesn’t quite know what to feel either.  In the span of half an hour his entire universe has been turned upside down.

“Gwen, would you mind if I went to talk with him?  You can finish with the tour later.  I won’t disappear on you.”

Smiling, Gwen pats his arm.  “No problem.  He’s probably gone to the archives.  I’m sure you noticed which way he went but it’s down that hall,” she points, “door’s on the left.  You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” leaning in he gives her a quick peck on the cheek and sets off down the corridor with a determined stride.

As she’d said, the archive isn’t difficult to find.  The door stands open and he sees Ianto inside.  After Jack enters, he closes the door so that they can have a modicum of privacy.  Then he walks over and stands behind Ianto.

When he fails to respond, Jack reaches out to place a hand on one well-clad shoulder.  Ianto shrugs it away.

“Ianto…”

Ianto rounds on Jack, his face angry.  “You bloody left me, Jack!  I died and you didn’t even _try_ to get me back. You just waltzed off to some other planet without a second look.”

“I didn’t…I couldn’t…” Taking a deep breath, Jack tries to decide how to express his scattered thoughts.  “I stayed for six months.  All right, yes, I didn’t stay _here_ exactly but there wasn’t anything I could do.  I’m sorry, Ianto.  For God’s sake, I’m really sorry.  You shouldn’t have died there and I didn’t know what to do!”

Jack realizes that he’s shaking but he doesn’t care.  He just wants things to be all right between the two of them again.  He doesn’t care if he has to start over.  He’s willing.  At this point he will do anything that Ianto asks of him.  He’ll go back to London and jump off Tower Bridge if that’s what it takes.

Something in Ianto softens slightly, Jack spots it, but it’s obvious that he is still angry too.  “Tell me what you want from me, Ianto.  Do you want me to beg for your forgiveness?  I’ll go down on my knees right here.”

He starts to do just that, but Ianto reaches out to stop him.  Silence lingers and suddenly Jack has a devastating thought.  “Have you…there’s not someone else is there?”

Ianto shakes his head.  “Of course there isn’t.  Did you think I’d get resurrected and just hop on the nearest piece of ass?”  His tone is disparaging and his eyes seem to pierce right through him.  “That’s the Jack Harkness way, isn’t it?”

Jack winces as if he’s been slapped.  It only hurts so much because it’s true, and they both know it.  “Look, I can’t claim to have lived like a monk.  You know it would be a lie.  To be fair, I thought you were dead.  You _were_ dead.”

It’s Ianto’s turn to wince but he chooses to ignore that last ill-advised statement.  “You wouldn’t even tell me you loved me at the end.  Did you ever love me, Jack?  Do you even love anyone but yourself?”

Jack moves forward, fast, catching Ianto’s face between his hands, and he doesn’t let him pull away when he tries.  Finally, Ianto stops resisting, though his hands remain clamped around Jack’s wrists.

“Ianto Jones, I love you so much that I want to explode.  I ached for you every minute from the moment we died together until the moment you walked up those stairs out there.

“Every time I played a scam to stay alive, every time I took a life, every time I fucked some boy that looked like you I hurt so damn bad.  And the worst part of it was that I wanted it to hurt.  I thought that the more I hurt, the quicker I would get over it.  But you know what?  I just went on hurting.”

He stops, his eyes flickering over Ianto’s, trying to read what he’s feeling.  Slowly Ianto’s hands slip from Jack’s wrists and drop to his sides.  The expression on his face floods Jack with disappointment and he too lets go.  They stand close, gazes still locked and then Ianto reaches up and pulls Jack into a kiss.

Jack is shocked.  His first instinct is to pull away, but Ianto’s strong hand on the back of his skull holds him firmly in place.  Recovering his scattered wits, Jack wraps his arms around Ianto’s waist and holds him close. 

Every sense is filled with Ianto: his scent, the soft brush of the expensive suit, the way his tongue probes very lightly over Jack’s lips, begging entry.  The kiss seems to last for an eternity and when Ianto breaks it, Jack feels bereft.  He never wants to stop kissing Ianto again.

“You know,” the voice is a low, amused purr, “I really missed that coat.”

Jack feels himself laughing through tears.  Maybe things aren’t quite right between the two of them but they’ve made a start.  After all, Jack thinks, the end of the beginning is far better than the beginning of the end.

 


	2. Now I'm Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is the chapter with borderline dubcon. Please read with care.

“So what is it?”

“We’re not sure.”

“It’s not another ‘risen mitten’ is it?”

“Jack, does this even _look_ like a glove?”

“Well, no, it looks more like a…”

“Okay, stop.  I know where this is going.”

“It’s not my fault that it looks like a Charlonian sex toy.  Those are incredible by the way.  The sentient…”

“Jack!”

He gives Gwen an impish little smile.  It feels so good to be back here.  Lois grins at him shyly and he graces her with a wink.  That brings out a more heartfelt smile, which makes him feel even better.

“If we could have some _adult_ contributions to this discussion.  Ianto, what do you think?”

“I think it does look a bit like a dildo, yeah.”

Jack gives a delighted laugh and promises with a glance to reward the other man later.

“If I may have some input,” Rachid speaks up finally and Gwen looks at the man with what is clearly gratitude, “we can’t rightly say what it _is_ until we know what it _does_.  It’s just a hunk of rift debris until we find that out.  Agreed?”

Gwen nods and turns to Jack.  “Jack, you always had a knack with mysterious alien artifacts.  Why don’t you and Ianto work on this one?"

Jack wants to kiss her for that.  He’s not sure if Gwen is putting them together so that they can further sort things out between them, or if she really thinks the two of them are best equipped to discover more about the alien item.  It doesn’t matter.  The fact that he’ll be able to spend plenty of time alone with Ianto is what counts.

He picks up the object while the others are still conversing, and turns it over in his hands.  It’s faintly warm to the touch and something about it niggles at his subconscious.  After a minute or two he looks up and sees Ianto watching him.

“Is there a free desk that I can use?  I wouldn’t mind getting started with this.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show him.  Carry on you lot.”  Turning to Jack, Ianto beckons.  “This way.”  In the old days that sentence would have ended with a sardonic ‘Sir’ and Jack finds that he misses that a little bit.

“Certainly, Mister Jones.”

Ianto smiles and leads the way down the hall, past the archives and into a medium-sized office space.  One wall is lined with cupboards and there is a work bench with several lights, much like one would find in a laboratory.  There is also a good-sized desk with a computer station and several filing cabinets.  Jack arches an eyebrow.

“If you’re wondering whose office this is, it’s a spare.  Gwen made sure there were extra just in case we obtained a few more team members.  There’s funding and space for eight but Gwen’s discerning.”  Ianto casually leans his butt against the desktop.  “After that incident with Rupesh, she says it doesn’t pay to take chances.”

While Ianto talks, Jack takes a turn around the office.  It seems like a perfect space for him and he’s content.  He wonders idly if there is enough room for a cot.  If he’s staying, he’ll need a place to sleep, and he doesn’t really see himself renting a flat in Cardiff.

“How did she come up with Rachid?” he asks finally, coming back to the conversation.

“Oh, he’s Martha’s.  Apparently she knew him during her medical training and he came looking for a job with her department in U.N.I.T.  I guess she convinced him that this was the right place for his talents.”  Ianto gives a half smile.  “He’s an okay bloke once you get him to loosen up a bit.”

“He doesn’t seem the sort who likes to ‘loosen up.’”

“You’d be surprised.  We go down the pub sometimes.  He doesn’t drink but he’s a huge rugby fan.”

“Well who wouldn’t be? All those hunky men in shorts,” Jack comments dryly with a naughty grin.  Ianto just shoots him a very Ianto-esque raised eyebrow.

“Yes, quite.”  The momentary silence causes Jack’s grin to deepen, and Ianto goes on.  “Anyway, Rachid also likes to get in on the office games of two-on-two.”

“Mmm, two-on-two sounds even better than rugby.”

“Basketball, Jack.”

Jack’s amusement at his own wicked thoughts is tempered by a flashback of the old group playing basketball around the hub.  He has a melancholy moment before realizing that Ianto’s watching him closely, probably guessing at what he’s thinking.  Strolling over to where he’s leaning, Jack sets one hand to either side of his hips on the desktop before leaning in to press a kiss on his lips.

The kiss lingers for a long time but finally Jack pulls back just enough to murmur, “I always preferred one-on-one, and I’m not talking about basketball.”

Ianto gives a soft smile.  “I thought you preferred two-on-one.”

“Okay, yeah, but it depends on the partners.”

It’s clear that Ianto is about to kiss him again when there is a voice from the doorway.  “Ianto, Captain, I…oh!”  Jack turns his head toward the voice and sees a very embarrassed-looking Lois.  “I’m sorry!  I…I was doing some Internet searches and I found a few things that might be useful.”  She waves a few sheets of paper.  “I’ll just leave these on the table.”

She moves over toward the workbench, and sets the papers down before hurrying out the door, very pointedly not looking in their direction.  Once she’s gone again, Jack shares a look with Ianto and laughs. 

“She’ll have to get used to us.” Jack places another light kiss on Ianto’s lips.  “At least, I _hope_ she’ll have to get used to us.  You don’t have any objections do you?”

“I’ll let you know.”

“You’d better, Mister!”  Grinning, he gives Ianto a last peck and then steps back.  “I suppose we should get back to work.  Do you think that Gwen would get me a cot if I asked her?”

Ianto arches a brow.  “She’s not the one you’ll want to ask; I do all the requisitioning.  Why are you after a cot for your office?  Lots of things you can do on a desk or in a chair if you’ll recall.”

Indeed Jack does recall and he snorts.  “Not quite what I had in mind but, as usual, I like the way you think.”  He picks up the alien object, and after taking it over to the workbench, he begins tinkering with it.  “The reason I’ll need a cot is that I need somewhere to sleep.  I’d prefer not to sleep on the floor, or slumped over the desk for that matter.”

“You’re going to sleep in the office?  I know you did in the hub but this is a bit different.”

Jack looks up from his work and considers Ianto.  There is a minute of silence, and then he shrugs.  “Maybe you’re right.  I could ask Gwen if she has a spare room.”  

“There’s always my flat.”

Jack, caught off guard, just stares at him.  “You want me to move into your flat?”

Ianto looks a little unsure of the notion and it’s his turn to shrug.  “We could give it a shot anyway.  If it doesn’t work out, I can still find you a cot.”  Considering that they had only been reunited that afternoon, things are moving very fast.

“Hmm.”  Jack pretends to turn his attention to the artifact in order to think on Ianto’s proposal.  It is obviously meant to be an olive branch, and Jack has no idea why he’s being so reticent.  By all rights he should be grabbing onto the offer with both hands.  Before he can overthink things any more, he meets Ianto’s gaze again and says, “Okay.”

Ianto’s smile is dazzling and Jack knows he’s done the right thing.  “But only if you let me sleep on the left side of the bed.”  He gives Ianto a roguish grin.

“You can sleep anywhere you like, Jack, as long as I’m the one there with you.”

 

* * *

 

It’s getting late.  Jack has run every sort of diagnostic he can think of but he still isn’t sure what the item does.  Everyone but he and Ianto have gone home for the night.  Jack realizes that Ianto probably wouldn’t mind following their example, but of course he hasn’t said a word on the subject.  He knows best of any of them what Jack’s like when he’s trying to unravel a mystery.

Ianto did manage to get Jack to break for dinner – take away curry from Bengal Palace – and seems content with that small victory.

He comes to stand at Jack’s shoulder and stares down at the thing again.  “It may not _be_ a sex toy, but I wonder what would happen if we used it as one?”

Jack spares him an amused glance.  “You really want to have what could be a weapon stuck up your…” He trails off and glances downward with a wiggle of eyebrows.

“Nothing like going out with a bang.”

“Ianto Jones, you have an absolutely filthy mind.” And a knack for horrible puns.

“Just one of my many charms, Sir.”

Freezing in his tracks, Jack looks back to Ianto’s face.  For a moment he can’t breathe.  One word, such a simple thing.  Even so, that simple thing makes him feel like what was wrong has finally been put right.  When he can finally speak again, he says softly, “Let’s go home, Ianto.  I don’t think we’ll need any toys.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ianto grins, “just let me get my coat.”

Nodding, Jack grabs his own greatcoat and shrugs it on.  While he waits, he picks up the artifact once more and plays with it.  He really wishes he could place where he’s seen something like this before.  Despite its phallic appearance, he knows that it’s not what they’ve been joking about.

“You having second thoughts about the toys, Jack?”

Jack chuckles and sets the object back on the bench.  “You’re obsessed, Ianto.”  He gives him a rakish grin as he turns and gestures for him to lead on.  “I’ll tell you what, if you’re that keen, I’ll take you to this little shop I know.”

“We’ll see how things go, hmm?”

“Just let me know.  The owner used to be a good friend of mine.”

“Used to be?”

“Well yeah.  I’ve been away for a while as you’ll recall.”

“The shop might not even be there now, you know?”  Ianto unlocks his new car, which Jack has to admit is a very sexy piece of hardware, and they climb inside.

“I hadn’t even thought about that.  We’ll definitely have to stop by later and find out.”

“Mmm hmm.”

Silence descends as Ianto navigates the streets of Cardiff.  Since he was dead for over a year, it isn’t a surprise that he no longer lives in the flat Jack remembers.  Jack wonders if the new flat is similar, or if Ianto has taken the opportunity to do something completely different with his living space.  If it’s anything like the new car, it must be impressive.

Jack mentions the vehicle and Ianto gives a soft laugh, telling Jack that he’s been given quite a tidy sum of money from the government.  “For pain and suffering,” Ianto adds with a sort of smile.

“I’d put in my claim but I don’t think they could afford it.”

The smile fades from Ianto’s face.  He just nods and takes a right turn.

A few minutes longer and they arrive at a very upscale building.  Ianto parks in one of the numbered spaces and leads Jack to a bank of elevators.  Jack happily follows, splitting his attention between Ianto’s ass and the swanky surroundings. 

The high-class environment doesn’t quite mesh with the Ianto he knows – the quiet down-to-earth boy who was content to make coffee and run errands for the chance to work at Torchwood – but Jack realizes that perhaps time has changed his lover more than he knows.

When Ianto finally ushers him into the flat, Jack finds evidence of its owner’s cheeky irreverence.  Without waiting for permission, he walks through the living space admiring the testaments to Ianto’s love of old cinema. Finally, he moves to the large sliding glass door on the other end of the room.  There he pauses, looking out at the city lights beyond.  It isn’t long before he sees Ianto’s image reflected in the glass.

More than that, he can feel his presence close behind him, a presence which sends an anticipatory tingle through Jack’s groin.  Another minute ticks by as he savors the sensation.  That is about all he can take.  Pivoting, he grabs Ianto and shoves him roughly up against the door.  Finding himself pinned, Ianto utters a little growl low in his throat that makes Jack want him even more.

The kiss grows fiercer with every moment.  Jack’s fingers fist in the fine-spun cotton of Ianto’s shirt, probably leaving it permanently wrinkled, but he couldn’t care less.  Before long, clothes are flying, each man is that desperate to feel skin on skin. 

Ianto contorts enough to get his outer layers off without breaking the kiss and Jack is sure that he’s popped several buttons from his own shirt in the rush.  It’s all right.  He’s always been a fair hand with needle and thread.

Suddenly Ianto’s hand is sliding into Jack’s trousers and Jack breaks away with a gasp.

“Fuck!”  The curse is low and urgent as long fingers circle Jack’s cock.  He can’t fault Ianto’s memory; he still knows _exactly_ the right things to do.  A twist of the wrist and Jack shudders, giving a low moan.  He reaches out to place his palm on the glass door for support.

Because they’re not on the ground floor, Jack hasn’t really paid attention to the fact that there could be someone watching what the two of them are doing.  The thought occurs to him now and he finds the idea incredibly hot.  Jack’s always liked having sex where people could be watching and though Ianto might object if he realizes, he’s not going to let him wriggle out of it.

Ianto has Jack’s trousers undone and is stroking him just like Jack had remembered the day before.  It’s not what Jack really wants, however.  Getting the rest of Ianto’s clothes off becomes his priority and once that’s accomplished, Jack bends to get the tin of Bellorian sex wax from the pocket of his coat.

Ianto gives the tin a questioning glance.

Ignoring the look, Jack gestures for him to turn around.  Ianto obeys, then stops.  He’s only just realized that he’s standing naked in front of a transparent door.  He starts to turn back but Jack’s hand falls on his shoulder, shoving him against the cool glass. 

Jack presses tight against Ianto’s back and his lips settle in the juncture of Ianto’s neck and shoulder, kissing first and then tonguing his way in a lazy stroke up his neck.  While his mouth is occupied, his hips grind against the perfect globes of Ianto’s ass.

His cock is throbbing now, every thrust against the soft flesh is exquisite torture.  After so long with mere substitutes, this finally feels so right.  Pulling back just enough, he prepares himself quickly and slips into his lover’s unresisting body.  Ianto gasps his name and Jack can see in the reflection that his eyes are closed.

Nuzzling in close, Jack watches Ianto’s face as he takes possession of his body.  The thrusts are unrelenting and Ianto writhes against him, sweat standing out on his skin before long.  Their breathing matches the rhythm set by their bodies, soft grunts and naughty words flowing from their lips.

“You like that, don’t you?”  Jack’s hot breath ghosts by Ianto’s ear.

“Oh, God…yeah!  Harder!”

“Tell me you love my cock first.”  A soft kiss to the shell of his ear draws a near whimper.

“I bloody adore your cock.  Fuck me harder, Jack!”

Laughing quietly, Jack happily obliges.  He drives home so hard for a minute that Ianto gasps every time their skin slaps together.  Ianto’s hand drops immediately to stroke his own erection and his sounds of pleasure are music to Jack’s ears.

“Can’t.  Oh!  Can’t take.  Much more.”

Jack looks to the reflection in the glass and he sees the lust mirrored in that beloved face.  He feels such a fierce burning inside himself.  Changing up his angle, he gives several tight, quick thrusts.  His free hand holds Ianto’s hip, giving the leverage he needs.

Jack feels the exact moment when Ianto hovers on the brink.  Their eyes meet for just an instant in the glass and then Ianto’s face contorts into a grimace as his whole body spasms.  Jack keeps to his pace as he bucks and writhes, wearing a little smile as he feels a different kind of satisfaction.

Once the shudders pass, Ianto sags slightly in his grip and Jack wraps the arm that’s been at Ianto’s hip around his torso instead.  The tempo of his thrusts remains constant as he drives to his own finish. 

Burying his face against Ianto’s shoulder, he simply focuses on Ianto’s scent and the feelings that are threatening to sweep him away.  For a moment he feels like he’s flying, caught up in the tumult of a storm.  Then there is an instant, just one, where time stops.  In fact, Jack is sure that his heart stops, then gives a flutter and the world is shattering around him.  Jack cries out and grips Ianto hard against him.  He doesn’t think he’s ever come this hard in his entire life. 

When it’s finally over, he stands there with his chin resting on Ianto’s shoulder, trying desperately to gather his wits.  Ianto waits patiently.

Finally Jack is able to disengage and he pulls back.  Ianto peels himself off the glass and turns.  Feeling a little chagrined, Jack looks beyond him at the mess they’ve left on the door.

“I’ll clean that for you tomorrow.”

“You’d better.”

“I’ll get to it right after I sew the buttons back on my shirt.”

“Before. You can clean without a shirt.”

Ianto chuckles and pulls the curtains.  It’s unlike him to not be fastidious about cleanup but he doesn’t comment further.  Instead, he leads Jack over to the couch, which he collapses into, pulling Jack down on top of him.  Jack happily takes the position and before he can even register being tired, he’s asleep.

Ianto, on the other hand, doesn’t drift right off.  He spends the time thinking about a lot of things.  After about an hour, he wriggles his way out from under the slumbering captain and makes his way to the bathroom.  Once he’s done, he claims his robe from the peg by the door and goes out onto the balcony for a fag and a think. 

By the time his smoke burns down to the filter, he’s made up his mind.  He stubs it out in one of the planters and goes back in.

Slipping out of the robe, Ianto tosses it over a nearby chair and settles in with Jack again.  His chilled flesh makes Jack shiver and mutter something in his sleep.  That brings a fleeting smile to Ianto’s lips but he steels himself for the conversation that he knows must happen now.

Nudging his sleeping lover, Ianto speaks.  “Jack.”

“Mmm?”

“Wake up.  We need to talk.”

“Hmh mm.”

Grunting, Ianto rolls Jack over and presses him into the leather of the sofa.  “Jack, I want to talk to you.”

“About what?” is the return mutter.

“I want to talk about what you were doing while you were gone.”

Jack groans.  He certainly doesn’t want to talk about this.  “That is in the past.  Can’t we just move on?”

“No.  I want to talk about this.  Now.”

Hearing Ianto’s tone and knowing that he won’t let this go, Jack shifts so that he can partially sit up against the arm of the couch.  Ianto sits astride him, resting lightly on Jack’s thighs, which Jack thinks would be highly erotic if they weren’t having _this_ discussion.

“Just what do you expect me to say?”

“You could start with telling me how many.”

“How many boys I took to my bed?”

“ _All_ of the beings you took to your bed.  Knowing the number of men would be a start.”

Jack can only give an uncomfortable shrug.  “I honestly don’t know how many.”  He looks into Ianto’s eyes and sees that he doesn’t quite believe that.  Jack wonders why Ianto wants to know, but then he thinks that it must be something like picking at a scab.  It hurts but you can’t stop doing it once you’ve started. 

Ianto doesn’t ask any further questions, leaving it to Jack to fill the silence and damn himself with his confessions.  Jack gives him what he apparently wants.

“Mostly they were boys. Men in their twenties,” he clarifies before Ianto makes a wrong assumption with the term ‘boys.’  “Anyone who reminded me of you.  One would have your smile, one would give me a glance like you used to when you wanted to stay late, one would simply have grey eyes.  I’d find a new one every few days.”

Jack takes a deep breath.  “Half the time I couldn’t even finish.  Do you know what sort of pain it takes to make that happen?  To a guy like me?”

“You mean a man-whore?” Ianto snorts and suddenly Jack is angry.  Very angry. 

“Damnit Ianto!  You think that it’s funny?  You think I enjoyed not being able to sleep through the night unless I found someone to shag senseless?”

“Never a shortage of those though, Jack.”  It is characteristic snark from Ianto but he’s hurting too.  His eyes show just how much he feels betrayed.

“Fuck you, Ianto.  This was a mistake.”  Laying his hand on Ianto’s chest, Jack gives him a shove, wanting simply to get his clothes and get out.  He’ll walk back to headquarters and sleep there, cot or no cot. 

That is as far as he gets before Ianto’s hands clamp on his shoulders and shove him back into the couch with a snarl.  “You’re not running away from me again, you bastard!”

Jack isn’t able to react before Ianto is kissing him, hard.  Jack’s fingers scrabble against Ianto’s back, nails sinking into the pale flesh.  Anger still thrums through his entire body but Ianto has him pinned so that he can hardly move.  That doesn’t keep him from trying.  He writhes and scratches but that only serves to make Ianto kiss him harder and put more of his weight into holding Jack down.

A minute or two passes and he feels Ianto’s stiffened prick nudging heavily against him.  Then Ianto drops a hand to Jack’s thigh and hikes his leg around his body.  Suddenly, in some corner of his mind, Jack is actually afraid that the younger man intends to fuck him raw.  Even though Jack’s been around the block more than a few times, he doesn’t relish the prospect.  He attempts to struggle just a little harder and after a couple of tries, he manages to pull Ianto’s head back by his hair.

“Ianto, stop it!”

“Not going to happen.”  There is a wild look in his eyes that disturbs Jack to the core.  He swallows heavily.  Then he feels Ianto’s cock pressing against his opening.

“Just not like this.  Please.”

For a long moment Jack is convinced that Ianto’s not going to give in.  Closing his eyes, he steels himself for the inevitable pain.  He knows what it will be like and waiting is almost the worst part.  Suddenly though, the pressure lifts off one shoulder and he hears Ianto spitting into his palm.

Cautiously Jack opens his eyes and what he sees gives him a modicum of relief.  This he can deal with.  That’s all he has time to think before Ianto is shoving into him.  It feels like being impaled with a battering ram and Jack can’t help the loud groan that escapes him.  There’s no time to recover either as Ianto drives in again and keeps on driving.

Jack wriggles a bit, bringing up his other leg to wrap it around the body on top of him.  That feels a lot better and some of his discomfort gives way to skittering pleasure as Ianto’s cock batters against Jack’s p-spot.

The intensity of what’s happening is what takes the older man’s breath away.  Ianto’s eyes are fixed on his and he hasn’t loosened his grip on Jack’s shoulders one iota.  The rhythm of his strokes is steady and punishing, especially as Jack wants to touch himself but can’t.  Instead he has to be content with what little friction is provided when Ianto’s body happens to slide against his.

Before long they’re both breathing hard.  Jack watches Ianto’s eyes, noting how they cloud as he gets closer to the end.  His movements are starting to become more erratic, hips bucking more wildly, causing Jack to cry out when he slams home.  Jack’s prick is throbbing, screaming for attention but all he can do is grip Ianto’s buttocks tightly.

A minute more is all it takes.  Ianto’s thrusts falter for just a second and then he gives a growl as the orgasm overtakes him.  He clearly refuses to give up eye contact with Jack but his eyes narrow as shudders wrack his body.  Jack watches a tear slide unheeded from the corner of his lover’s eye.

Finally Ianto stills and releases the pressure on Jack’s shoulders.  The first thing he does when he’s free is to reach up to brush the tear off Ianto’s cheek.  Then he pulls Ianto into his arms, clasping him tightly to his chest.  Jack can feel that Ianto is trembling with emotion but since his eyes are now closed, he is unable to read them.

Minutes pass and Jack places a kiss on his lover’s forehead.  In return, he hears a quiet, “I’m sorry, Jack.”

“Shh.  It’s okay.”  And it is.  Jack understands completely what Ianto has done.  After all, he’s been doing much the same thing for over a year.

A gentle hand snakes down to find his erection, which has softened somewhat.  Jack lays his hand on Ianto’s wrist to stop him.  “It’s okay,” he repeats, feeling that he doesn’t deserve pleasure right now.

Ianto ignores him.  Fingers slip lightly over the head of his cock and Jack doesn’t fight it.  When Ianto starts to pump him properly, it doesn’t take long.  This time when Jack comes, it’s without fanfare.  Ianto keeps stroking him until it simply becomes too sensitive and Jack’s light touch stills his hand.  They watch each other for a long time afterward until Jack pulls him into a kiss.

“Don’t shag around on me anymore, Jack.”  Ianto’s voice is soft and pleading.  Jack thinks that his heart may have just cracked a little.

 _I promise…as long as you never leave me again._   Jack knows that’s a promise that Ianto can’t possibly keep.  “I won’t.”

 


	3. How Sweet the Sound

Warm water washes through Jack’s hair and drips down his body, soothing the stiffness from his muscles.  They never did make it to the bedroom last night but he doesn’t mind.  The fact that Ianto’s lips are currently wrapped tight around his cock helps immensely as well.

Jack’s fingers drift lazily through his wet hair and stroke the back of his neck.  Ianto hums, drawing an echoing gasp from his captain, whose hips buck several times before he can regain his control.

There’s not a single aspect of sex that Ianto doesn’t do well, but Jack thinks that the man is one of the top five blowjobs that he has ever had.  Considering the sheer magnitude of Jack’s experience, that’s saying something.

Of course, he’s never actually told Ianto how good he is.  He probably already knows from observation and Jack would rather not give him a big head.  Well…

Ianto rolls his tongue and that is all Jack can take.  Choking out a cry, he empties his balls into that talented mouth, his fingers clutching tightly against Ianto’s neck.  It’s not long before he is off his knees and kissing Jack soundly.  He knows that the captain is fond of the taste of himself on his lover’s mouth and the embrace lingers for quite a long time.

Finally they break away and Ianto murmurs, “We’re going to be late.”

“They can miss us for a while.”  Jack pulls him right back into another kiss.

In the end, he does let Ianto drag him off to work.  Ianto has things that need doing and even though Jack doesn’t really, he likes being where the action is.  He spends a good part of the morning flirting with Lois and trying to crack Rachid’s shell.  Jack catches glimpses of what Ianto was saying about the doctor, but the guy is definitely too serious for Jack’s tastes.

It’s close to noon when Gwen arrives.  Jack is ‘messing around with his rod’ – as he’s taken to calling his research just to make Lois blush – when she wanders into his new office.

“Hiya, Jack.  Busy?”

“Not particularly.  What’s up?”

“I just came to see how last night went.”  Gwen’s face shows a sort of contrived innocence with curiosity burning underneath.

“It was…all right.  This morning was better.”  He smiles and leaves it at that.

“Do you think this might be a permanent arrangement then or are you still planning on running off?”

“I believe that Ianto has convinced me to stay.”  The smile still lingers.  “If you could spare him for a few days in the not too distant future, I’d like to take him with me when I go to get my things.  I think the adventure would help the two of us.”

Gwen nods.  “That can be arranged.  In the meantime, there’s someone here who’d like to see you.”

“Yeah?”

Gwen turns, pops her head out the door and gestures.  A few moments later Martha Jones saunters into the room, followed by Johnson.  Jack leaps out of his seat and has Martha wrapped into a bear hug before anyone but him knows what is happening. 

“Hullo to you too, Jack!”  Martha laughs but she hugs him just as tightly as he does her.  Reluctantly, he finally lets her go.

“I hear that I owe you a lot, Ms. Jones.  You are still going by ‘Jones’ right?”

“Yeah, it’s just been easier.  Tom knew he was marrying a modern woman from the start, so no worries about it.”  She winks and Jack’s heart swells.  He’s been through a lot with this ‘modern woman’ and he loves her more than he could even say.  “You don’t owe me as much as you think, though.”

“I don’t?” Jack gestures around himself. “You did all this and mended Ianto too.”

“I can’t take any credit at all for Ianto, but you’re welcome for my part in the rest.”

He’s glad that she’s not too modest to accept some praise and his continuing grin lets her know it.  “And once you heard I was back, you couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

Martha shakes her head as she laughs again.  “As a matter of fact, I couldn’t.  When Gwen told me the news at our lunch, I had to come see for myself.  Are you making yourself useful, Captain?”

Jack hops to attention, “Yes, ma’am!”

“Glad to hear it!  Johnson and I need Torchwood’s assistance.”

Becoming aware of the third woman in the room once more, Jack glances at her.  She inclines her head politely, wearing a wry grin.  Despite the fact that she’s killed him more times than he would have liked, he doesn’t really bear her ill will.  Jack does wonder what her function is these days, however.

“I presume that you three have already discussed it?”  A chorus of nods answers him.  “What do you want me to do?”

Gwen is the one to answer.  “For starters, we thought perhaps you would like your old position back.”

Jack can only give her a blank stare; then he turns his gaze on the others.  They simply wait for his answer.  “You want me to lead the team again?”

“To be honest, Torchwood needs more stable leadership than I can provide.  However, we’re trusting that you’ll make sound decisions.  If I don’t agree with something, we call Martha.  It doesn’t matter whom she backs, once she makes a decision the argument is over.  I guess you can call it leadership by committee but only when there is a disagreement.  Sound all right?”

All right?  It sounds too good to be true.  “Hell yes.”  Then something else occurs to him.  “What about Ianto?”

Martha gives a trademark, arched eyebrow.  “What about him, Jack?”

“Well, shouldn’t he have some say in things too?”

“The whole team has a say, that’s why we’re a team.  This arrangement will only matter in important decisions; things that leadership would have to take care of.”

“I have a feeling that if Mister Jones doesn’t like something, he’ll make his thoughts abundantly clear,” adds Johnson, whose smile has deepened.  Jack knows that the woman must be commenting about something that he’s missed and he feels a burning curiosity about it.  Unfortunately, nobody seems to want to enlighten him.

“Still willing, Jack?”

He looks down at the hand that Martha is holding out to him and he gives it a firm shake.  “I am.”  Jack can’t wait to get Ianto alone and share the news.  He has a hunch that won’t happen for a while though.  “You said you needed Torchwood’s help?”

“That I did.  Johnson?”

With a nod, the woman steps forward and begins to brief him about a ship that U.N.I.T. salvaged several weeks prior from a field south of Salisbury.  “We found traces of a life form that apparently survived the crash.  Unfortunately the trail went cold pretty shortly.  That is, it did until two days ago.  We have reason to believe that whatever this alien is, it has made its way to Cardiff.  Perhaps it has discovered the rift and it’s trying to get home.”

“Or it came out of the rift in the first place.”

“That is another possibility.”

“Any ideas on what we’re looking for exactly?”

“I’ve brought CCTV footage.  It’s not very good but it’s the only thing we’ve got.”

“Let’s see if Lois can fix it up.”

The four of them troop out of the office and make their way to Lois’ workstation.  Her space looks a bit like mission control and Jack immediately pops the disc Johnson hands him into the main computer.

A few seconds later they are greeted by a grainy video on the largest monitor.  Of course it was taken at night and they can only catch glimpses of a large blob of black moving through the darkness.

“Lois, do you think you can clean up the image for us?”

“I’ll see what I can do.  Gimme a minute.”

Taking hold of the mouse, she brings up an editing program and sets to work.  Despite what Gwen said the day before about Lois still learning to fill Tosh’s shoes, Jack’s impressed.  He begins to think he’ll have to recruit someone else to make the coffee soon.  Either that or he’ll have to convince Ianto to resume the duty.  They will definitely both enjoy what Jack uses for convincing.

“Here we go.”  The video starts again and the black smudge is clearer.  They can now see that it is clearly a humanoid; a humanoid that looks like it might be covered in hair. 

“I dated a guy that looked like that once.  He loved to have his belly scratched.”

The four women collectively ignore him but he hears Martha snort and Lois is trying, unsuccessfully as it turns out, to hide a smile.

“A civilian seeing that thing might think it was a werewolf or something.”

“It’s not very canine-looking though.  Sasquatch maybe?”

“Yeah, probably more like that.  I can see the headlines now.  ‘Bigfoot Comes To Cardiff.’”

“And us throwing one big Retcon party afterward.”  Jack frowns at the picture.

“I don’t know that we would have enough.”

“What would be a better option?”  Lois wonders aloud.  “Having everyone believe it’s Bigfoot or having them know that it’s really an alien – possibly a hostile one?”

“Who’s to say that Bigfoot wouldn’t be hostile?”

“Maybe he’d just be randy.  What with those big…feet.”

“Jack!”

“Getting in trouble again, Sir?”  Ianto’s dulcet tones are music to Jack’s ears and he turns his smile to where he’s leaning against the doorframe.

“Always!  Get your ass in here and give us your perspective.”

Ianto wanders in, stopping close enough to Jack’s side for him to feel his warmth.  He peers at the image on the monitor and then looks askance at Gwen.  “What am I looking at?”

“Escaped alien.  Johnson here believes that it may be loose in the area.”

“An alien loose in Cardiff?  Now there’s a novel idea,” Ianto intones dryly, drawing a bark of a laugh from Jack.

“How big was the ship you recovered?”  Gwen asks Johnson.

“Two-seater, not very big relatively speaking.  There were only signs of one alien leaving the area but that doesn’t mean that there couldn’t be something else at large.”

None of them liked the idea of a ‘something else’ and their glances showed it.

“Nothing is ever easy,” Jack sighs.

“Now, if it were easy, it would be boring, Sir.”

“And none of us want to be bored, do we?”

“Indeed not.”

“It would be a nice change, though,” Martha notes.  She’s answered by a round of nods and ‘You’re rights.’

“Well team,” Jack claps his hands, “let’s get to it.  Pair up and scour the city?”  He sees the look that Ianto sends to Gwen, perhaps wondering why Jack is giving the orders.  She just smiles at him in return.

“Sounds good.  No need to ask who’s going with you.  Martha, you with me?”

“Sure.  We’ll take this section of city,” she points to a nearby map of Cardiff and the surrounding area, “Jack, you and Ianto take this one and Lois and Johnson take this one.  All right?”

Everyone nods in agreement and starts to pack up.  Jack moves closer to Martha and Johnson who’ve started speaking together.  “You ladies got a minute?”

“Sure Jack.”

“I want to show you something that we found,” he gestures for them to follow him back to his office, speaking as he goes.  “Well, I say _we_ but they found it before I showed up.  I wanted to know if either of you recognize it.”

Moving over to the bench, he picks up the rod and hands it to Martha.  She turns it over in her hands, peering at it.  Then she shakes her head as she hands it to the other woman.  “Never seen anything like it.”

Jack feels disappointed but he just nods.  “I was hoping that you might have come across something like this at U.N.I.T., but never mind.  I’ll puzzle it out eventually.”

“Do you think it might have come along with our friend?”

“It’s possible, though rift junk turns up all the time.  Could be from anywhere – or any time for that matter.”

“True,” Martha has another look at the rod, “I’ll let you know if any information drops into my lap.”

Jack’s about to make a quip but she gives him a look that stops him in his mental tracks.  He doesn’t know how these women do it.  Nobody ever reacts to _his_ stares that way.  Then he thinks about how people _do_ react to his stares and he is cheered immensely.

“Thank you, Doctor Jones.”  She whacks him on the biceps and he throws his arm around her shoulder to steer her out of the office.  Ianto is waiting in the hallway and he glances at the two as they emerge.  There’s a bit of jealousy there – invisible to anyone who doesn’t know Ianto like Jack knows Ianto.  This is going to take longer than he’d supposed. 

_Rome wasn’t built in a day…even with all of those muscular, sweaty slaves._

With that enticing thought in mind, he bids the women farewell and takes his partner off for some alien hunting. 

 

* * *

 

 

Ianto is characteristically taciturn as he pilots the Range Rover – the rebuilt Torchwood has two of them – toward their destination.  The silence is normal but the mood isn’t quite.  At first Jack attempts to keep it light in his usual manner but it’s a strain and eventually he stops trying. 

Instead he focuses on their surroundings for a while.  It’s amazing how a city can change in just a year or two.  Not in major ways, of course, but there are new shops where vacant lots used to be or construction zones where an old house stood for years.  Like so many other things, Jack takes the passage of time for granted and that often means that he forgets to notice subtleties.

“You’re not jealous of Martha now are you, Ianto?”  Sometimes the direct way is the best one.

“Why would I be?”

“I don’t know but something certainly seems to be on your mind.”  Jack keeps from looking at his partner but even so, he can feel the storm brewing.  “I told you before that nothing ever happened between her and me.”

“You’ve told me a lot of things, Jack.”

“Most of them were true.”

“Most.”

“Has everything you’ve ever told me been the absolute truth?”

No answer.  Jack snorts.  “I guess that means my arse _does_ look big in these trousers.”

He grins when he feels the tension ease just a smidgen.  Another moment of silence passes and he continues, “I swear to you that nothing will happen between Martha and me.”

“But do you want it to?” 

Now there is a good question.  In the end, Jack shakes his head.  “She’s in love with someone else, someone I’m still in love with too if it comes right down to it.”

His tone is wistful and Ianto spares him a glance.  “That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, Jack.  And I hope you’re not referring to her husband there or we’re going to have some words.”

“Hah!  No way.  Although….”

“Jack.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ianto.  You have no cause to be jealous of Martha or anyone else.  I meant what I said last night.  Besides, she would never have me.”

“With those 51st Century pheromones? I’m surprised she hasn’t jumped you already.”

Levity from Ianto is definitely a good thing and it makes Jack feel a whole lot better.  “Believe it or not, some beings do have immunity to them.  Not many, of course.”

“Of course.”  Ianto pulls off the road and puts the vehicle in park.  “And here we are, Sir.”

“The only question is what do we do now that we’re here?”

“Catch an alien?”

“Great idea but first we have to find an alien.”

“Lots of tools for that.  Plus the good, old-fashioned ones.”

“Eyes and ears?”

Ianto turns to grab a bag from behind the seat.  “The best kind.”

“Let’s go then.”  Jack doesn’t wait for a reply, practically jumping out of the SUV. 

“Yes, Sir.”  Once outside the SUV, Ianto pulls what looks to be a PDA from the bag and looks down at the screen.  He turns a slow circle and Jack moves to his side, peering down at the device.

“What have you got there?”

“This analyzes heat signatures within a certain radius.  Two miles is usually the maximum in open areas like this.  If we were in the city, it would be a lot smaller and a lot more difficult to differentiate.”

 “So many more bodies.”

“Exactly.  In a smaller area.  Besides that, you have all the electrical heat sources to contend with as well.  They read differently than the biologicals but it’s all so much noise on this,” he waggles the scanner.

Jack can’t help thinking that this improved, sciencey side of Ianto is incredibly fucking hot.  As usual, Ianto reads his mind and gives a smiling shake of his head before walking off toward the woods.  Okay, so maybe Jack is predictable.  Predictability isn’t always a bad thing.

He trails Ianto for a few hundred yards until he suddenly stops.  Jack stops beside him and Ianto speaks in a low tone. 

“Biological heat signature up ahead.  It actually looks,” he draws the words out with a puzzled frown, “like there are two of them.  Sort of…”

“’Sort of?’”  Jack’s response is quizzical.  “What do you mean, ‘Sort of?’”

“Come on, let’s get a closer look.”

Ianto creeps ahead and Jack pulls his gun, his eyes scanning all directions.  In instances like these he falls back on his training of so many years ago, his senses on high alert.

Finally they near the spot where the source of heat is located.  Ianto holds up a warning hand.  Jack doesn’t need the warning, he can hear sounds coming from up ahead and he knows what’s making them.

The expression on Ianto’s face when he spots the blanket on the ground – and the shagging couple on top of it – is priceless.  Jack would have given a great deal for a photo of that face.  Luckily, he manages to grab hold of him and drag him into the bushes before the teenagers notice them.

“Jack!” Ianto hisses as he pulls him down to watch the action.

“Hush,” he whispers close to Ianto’s ear, “do you want them to hear us?”

“Jack, we shouldn’t stay here.  We’ve got work to do.”  Ianto’s got a playful streak a mile wide but when it comes to fieldwork he can be far too serious sometimes.

“Mmm hmm.”  He hears the disapproval in Ianto’s voice but he’s not in such a big hurry to look for the alien.  Not when the alternative is voyeurism.

Smirking, he reaches around Ianto’s body and pulls him close against his chest.  There is another hissed, “Jack!” but Jack doesn’t let that deter him in the slightest.  Bending his head, he kisses Ianto’s neck and murmurs, “Shhh!”

Then he rests his chin on Ianto’s shoulder and returns his attention to the couple.  The girl is definitely pretty but Jack hopes that the boy has a very nice personality because he is never going to be a centerfold.

A certain relaxation from Ianto in his arms lets him know that he’s won this round.  Not bad for his first day back on the job. 

Stealing a glance from the corner of his eye, he sees that Ianto’s attention is focused on the shagging teens as well.  _Hooray for the power of persuasion!_  Jack thinks with a grin.  He’s highly tempted to do a bit more than kissing but even though he knows Ianto can be quiet in most situations, it would be rather difficult in the heat of the moment to keep from being discovered. 

Instead he contents himself with light caresses of Ianto’s body and kisses to his neck.  By the time the young lovers come to their crescendo, which really doesn’t take too long, Jack has managed to work his partner up far more than he intended.

The two lovebirds haven’t even managed to get dressed before Ianto turns in Jack’s embrace and gives him a thorough snogging.  When they finally come up for air, Jack notices that the kids have gone.  He smiles at his panting lover and lightly pecks his lips.  “Back to work, Ianto.”

Ianto groans.  “You are a cruel man, Jack Harkness.”

“Aren’t I just?”  He stands and offers him a hand.  “Let’s go.”

 


	4. Was Blind

Sex in the office has always been one of Jack's favorite things. He's suddenly reminded of that as he looks down at the flushed face of the man beneath him.  For his part, Ianto appears to be enjoying it just as much as he is.

The two teams of women are still out looking for the alien, and Rachid is off doing God-knows-what in his basement laboratory like some mad scientist from a horror flick.  The chatter of female voices is just audible from the earpiece that Jack abandoned on the desk moments earlier.  He just hopes that nobody needs help before he and Ianto have finished. 

It appears that Ianto is reading his mind again.  “Do you think we should have…mmm.  Oh, Christ Jack…do that again.  Ah!  Fuck!  Do you think we should have gone to help them out?”

“They’re big girls.  More than qualified.”  Jack rocks his hips more aggressively.  “Besides, the chair needed breaking in.”

Ianto gives a breathy laugh, squeezing Jack’s buttocks as he drives up to meet him.  “Yes, definitely!”

Leaning down, Jack steals another kiss before murmuring, “Next time it will be the desk.”

“Lucky desk.”

“Very lucky desk.”

Their lips meet again and Ianto’s part, inviting Jack to delve deeper.  Taking the opportunity without hesitation, Jack teases his tongue over Ianto’s palate and tweaks a nipple, drawing a groan.  He knows that he won’t last much longer, so he continues to play with the sensitive nub, hoping to spark Ianto’s climax as well.

It takes perhaps a minute of such teasing before Ianto pulls from the kiss, panting desperately for breath, and his hands clench almost painfully on Jack’s buttocks.  Then his back arches and he groans, finally emptying himself deep into Jack’s body.

He shudders at the sensation, every nerve ending singing out in pleasure.  Reaching down, he gives his cock a couple of quick, hard jerks and comes all over Ianto’s chest and belly.  The two of them are a sweaty, sticky mess and Jack honestly couldn’t be happier.

Heavy breathing is the only sound to be heard for a time as they each catch their breath.  On a whim, Jack reaches up and strokes his fingertips lightly over Ianto’s eyebrow.  Ianto closes his eyes and gives a soft purr in response.  He’s just about to speak when they hear Gwen’s voice on the comm.

“Jack?  Jack, are you still listening?”

Sighing, he picks up his earpiece and fits it back over his ear.  “Yeah, I’m here.”

“You sound out of breath.  What have you been doing?”

“Rearranging the office furniture,” he feels the body beneath him shaking with silent laughter, “what have you got?”

“Something that you should see.  Sending coordinates through to your Range Rover’s nav system.”

Jack sighs.  “All right.  Be there in a few.” 

He presses the button to silence the headset and glances down at his lover.  “Duty calls.”

“Do you ever wish that you could just hang up?”

“Every day.”  Jack lifts himself off of Ianto’s cock with a grunt.  “At least she waited until we were done.”

“Thank heavens for small mercies.”  Ianto catches the towel Jack throws to him and starts to clean up.

“The price we pay for shagging on company time.”

“At least the boss doesn’t mind.”

Jack chuckles.  “Not only doesn’t he mind, he actively encourages.”

“I knew there was a good reason I still work here.”

He hums his agreement as he starts to slip into his trousers.  “By the way…once things settle down, you’re taking a trip with me to the Triangulum Galaxy.”

Ianto glances at him, “Wouldn’t it be polite to ask me if I want to go with you?”

Jack snorts and shrugs into his suspenders.  “All right.  Ianto Jones, will you accompany me to the Triangulum Galaxy?”

“I don’t know, Jack Harkness.  Why are you asking me to go there?”

“I just need to tie up a few loose ends.  I thought you’d like to see my flat there before I get rid of it – maybe have an adventure, just the two of us.”

“What about Torchwood?  You’ve just come back.”

“Gwen’ll manage.  I’ve already asked her and she said it was fine.”

“Oh.”

That’s all that is said on the matter for the time being but Ianto hasn’t refused. Jack presumes that means Ianto will go along and he is content with that.

 

“All right, what have we got?”

“Body.  Looks almost like it’s been turned to glass.  We didn’t want to move him in case he crumbled.”

Jack squats by the body, fascinated by its appearance.  It is literally as if some sculptor formed a glass person, complete with internal organs and complex venous structure. 

“What sort of alien does that?” Ianto wonders, squatting next to Jack.

“A very dangerous one.”

Gwen looks down at the captain.  “You’ve seen this before?”  

 “Never.  That’s what worries me.  I don’t know if the alien can do this with a touch or if it uses some sort of device, or even why it would do such a thing in the first place.”

Silence lingers as Gwen and Martha take that in.  They look as worried as Jack feels and he thinks that they should be.  Considering the state of this body, there is every chance that even Jack might not survive an encounter with such an alien.

 One thing that he is sure of – he doesn’t want to spend the rest of eternity as a glass ornament.

“Let’s see if we can get this guy back to headquarters.  Did you two see anything else around here that would give us a better idea of what happened?”

“Nothing at all, unfortunately.”

“Okay.”  He looks over toward the SUV.  “Do we have something to help us get the body into the car?”

“There are a couple blankets.  We can try to use them as a makeshift stretcher.”

“All right, let’s move.”

In the end, they manage to get the body into Gwen’s vehicle without breaking any bits – which is no minor feat under the circumstances.  When the little convoy pulls into HQ, Ianto goes off to retrieve Rachid and a stretcher to get the body inside.  Rachid is just as confounded by the state of their John Doe as the rest of them and Jack can tell that their doctor is excited by the prospect of starting his examination.

 _He’s just like Owen.  Getting a hard on over strange dead bodies._ Jack almost says that out loud but he isn’t sure how the comment would be received so he keeps mum. 

Martha sets in beside Rachid, starting all sorts of tests and the others leave them to it.  Jack leads Ianto and Gwen to the conference room.  Along the way they encounter Lois and Johnson, newly back from their search and just as empty-handed as Jack and Ianto had been.  The five of them take places around the long table to discuss the situation.

“Okay, what do we know?”

“Not a lot.”

Ianto decides to summarize.  “We have an alien that’s covered in hair and apparently turns people to glass.”

“But we’re only assuming that it’s the same alien,” Johnson replies, drawing all eyes to her, “or that it is an alien that did this in the first place.  The timing _could_ be coincidental.”  It’s clear that she is playing devil’s advocate.  Jack thinks that nobody is more qualified to do that.

“True, it could be.  Though it’s a pretty big coincidence.”

“It’s not like we haven’t seen ‘pretty big coincidences’ before though, Jack,” Gwen puts in.

That’s true, and he nods.  “Let’s not split hairs at this point.  Until we have more information, it will be simplest to assume that it’s one non-human on a rampage.  Maybe it was feeding on that body and that’s what left the man crystallized.  Maybe the alien saw him as a threat and turning him into glass was some sort of defense mechanism.  For all we know, the guy could still be alive and we could somehow change him back.

“Until we know more, let’s just find this thing and contain it.  It seems like we’re going to have our plates full enough with that task.”

There are nods all around and Lois speaks up.  “Captain, I’ve been thinking.  We’ve been trying to track this thing via heat signature alone, right?”  Jack inclines his head in agreement.  “Perhaps there is a better way of tracking it.”

Everyone but Jack just stares at her as if they can’t possibly imagine what she’s going on about.  She sees the curiosity and approval in his glance so she plunges on.  “In the Torchwood system there are all sorts of programs that were developed by Toshiko.  I haven’t even managed to learn how to use half of them yet, but there must be something in there that we can use – with or without a bit of modification – to scan for, I don’t know, alien ‘residue’ or something like that?  Maybe there are elemental differences between us and it that might be tracked?”

It’s Ianto’s turn to ask what they’re all thinking.  “The question is, can we find that program – if it exists – and modify it quickly enough to find this alien?  Time is of the essence.”

Lois looks a little deflated but there is a fire in her that Jack likes to see.  “I won’t know until I try.”

“What are you doing sitting here then?  Get on it, Miss Habiba!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Lois is out of her chair and scurrying from the room in record time.  The other four share amused glances. 

“They’re so cute at that age,” Ianto grins.

“Hush, Mister, or I’ll bust you back to tea boy so fast your head will spin.”

Ianto opens his mouth to fire back but he never gets a chance as Gwen speaks first.  “Now boys, while she’s doing that, we really should keep looking for this creature before it strikes somebody else.”

Jack and Ianto share a guilty glance but Jack nods.

“The only thing we can feasibly do is drive around south Wales looking for the thing,” Johnson reminds them.  “It hasn’t been spotted again on CCTV so it’s likely not in the city.  If it were, we’d have seen it.”

“Or the weevils would have.”

Three heads swivel toward Ianto again. 

“What?”

“If it were in the sewers or some dark, out of the way place to keep from being spotted on the cameras, the weevils would probably have noticed.”

That is such a brilliant notion that Jack could kiss him; not that he doesn’t always want to kiss Ianto.  That is beside the point.  “Do we know if there have been changes in weevil activity in the last few days?”

“I don’t think there has but I could check.”

“Do that.  Gwen,” he turns to her as Ianto leaves, “have you found out whether the police have anything new and crazy that we should know about?”

“They have nothing at all last I checked.  I told Andy to be on the watch and let us know about anything weird right away.”

“I guess that will have to do.”

“Jack?”  Ianto’s beautiful Welsh vowels drift down the hallway, “want to come down here for a minute?”

The trio rises from the table and a moment later they cram around Ianto’s desk.  “I suppose this isn’t much to go on,” Ianto points to a map of the sewers that he’s pulled up on the computer monitor, “but this is one of the places that the Weevils like to congregate.”

Jack nods and waits for the other man to go on.  When more than a few seconds pass, he looks down at Ianto.  “So?”

“So do you notice something odd?”

He looks back to the screen and notices that while there are a lot of little red dots moving around on the map like ants in a young child’s ant farm, in that particular section there is nothing.  “Hunh.  There’s nothing there.”

“At least nothing that we can track.  There must be _some_ reason why the weevils are staying away.”

“Only one way to find out…” Jack never gets to finish that sentence as he suddenly hears a voice intruding on his thoughts.  _Captain Jack Harkness._   His mouth instinctively closes and he cocks his head to the side, concentrating on the voice.  _Captain Jack Harkness!_

 _Yes?_ He reaches out with his mind, no stranger to telepathic communication.  _Who are you and what do you want with me?_

_I need your help._

Ianto notices his preoccupation and he’s about to speak when Jack holds up a hand to silence him.  _You didn’t answer my first question._

_Because it is not important._

_Where have I heard that before?_

There is a definite tinge of amusement from the presence in his head.  _Just come to Victoria Park as soon as you can.  Bring your boy along if you like.  No others._

Alarm bells start to toll for Jack.  _It doesn’t work like that.  My team comes with me or I come alone…and I don’t think I trust a disembodied voice in my head enough to come alone._

 _Oh Jack._ The amusement takes on a shade of fondness.  _You always have been stubborn._   There is a pause, as though the voice is considering.  _Fine, bring the two women along.  Gwen and Martha.  Leave the younglings at home though, if you please._

The way the entity speaks so casually, like it knows him, makes Jack burn with curiosity.  He makes sure to keep the emotion out of his thoughts, lest the telepath hear it.  _Who_ are _you?_  

_Victoria Park, Jack.  And hurry.  There is little time to lose._

 

* * *

 

 

“Jack, this is one of those times when I’m going to call your decision into question.  You’re planning on walking into God knows what just because some voice in your head told you to?  And you’re taking us with you.  Without a plan.”  Gwen is clearly not happy and she looks to Martha to back her up.  Martha nods, though it’s clear that she’s more bemused than annoyed.

“Look, you two don’t have to come.”  He turns to Ianto.  “And I don’t want you to come either if they don’t.  I can handle…whatever, but I don’t want you hurt for following me.”

Ianto is clearly annoyed by the insinuation that he can’t take care of himself.  His raised eyebrow and the look that he gives Jack are impossible to misinterpret.  Closing the distance that separates them, he cups Ianto’s face between his palms.  “I am not willing to lose you again,” Jack tells him softly, “I know you think you can take care of yourself but my ego is big enough for the both of us.  Stay safe.”

“Jack,” Ianto’s face softens slightly, “if whatever spoke to you intends to hurt me, what makes you think having Gwen and Martha along will stop it?”

“Safety in numbers?”  Jack shrugs.  “I don’t know, maybe I’m just being stupid.  I should just go alone.”

“I’m coming with you and that’s that.” 

Jack should know by now not to try to talk Ianto into anything, even if it’s for his own good.  That’s true of the entire lot of them and he’s no different.  He wouldn’t sit in headquarters either if his team were facing danger – not by his own choice, anyway. 

“Fine.  You can come.”  He looks back to the women.  “What about you two?”

“I suppose you’re going to do whatever you want no matter what we say?”  Martha’s quirky little grin doesn’t quite reach her lips though as always it lingers in her eyes.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Then I’m in.”

Gwen rolls her eyes and throws up her hands.  “Oh, all right, fine!  Let’s go get ourselves killed.  I’ll let Lois know.”  She stalks off leaving Jack and Martha staring at each other for a moment before they can’t contain their laughter.  Ianto wears an amused grin.

“Well, we can’t say she’s not a drama queen,” Jack observes once he stops laughing.

“Takes one to know one, Sir.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark.”

“Indeed.”

“Oh, God, you two!”  Martha grins at them both.  “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Which one of us,” Ianto inquires politely.

“Both of you!”  Getting between them, she wraps an arm around each of their waists and leads them toward the garage. 

Just as they get to the door, Gwen catches them up.  “All right, Lois will be monitoring us.  I certainly hope you know what you’re doing, Jack.”

“So do I,” he agrees, glad that she’s not going to fight him anymore.

The other two nod as they pass into the garage.  Jack immediately moves toward the driver’s side door.  Ianto opens his mouth to protest but apparently thinks better of it and instead claims shotgun.  Gwen and Martha pile into the back without comment and once they’re settled, the SUV rolls out.

The mood is subdued during the drive; nobody seeming inclined to partake in the team’s usual banter.  That’s all right with Jack.  Silence makes it easier to listen for any murmur from their visitor.  There is nothing.

Thankfully, there is little traffic at this time of evening and Jack only takes the wrong turn twice.  He can feel the amusement from the three around him, which is irritating, but Ianto reaches over and settles a hand briefly on Jack’s leg, grounding his frustration.  Ianto always knows just the right thing to do.  Jack hopes he can feel his gratitude in the same way that he must have felt the irritation. 

Finally, he turns into a car park and brings the Range Rover to a halt in one of the marked spaces.  Now that they’re here, Jack feels an overwhelming urge to leave. He fights it, knowing that somewhere nearby, the life form that spoke to him is waiting.  Pushing open the door, he hurries out of the vehicle before he changes his mind, and strides off into the park. 

Nothing moves.  Coming to a halt in the middle of the green, he turns a circle, watching the dark shapes of surrounding trees and the still playground equipment nearby.  _All right, I’m here.  Where are you?_

He is greeted by silence.  Half a minute ticks by and he’s just about to call out again when suddenly the voice is there in his head.  _I am right behind you._

Spinning, he sees a fast-moving figure loom up and then he is falling beneath the weight of a dark, hairy body.  He hears the voices of the others cry out and he flails beneath the creature.  After several seconds, Jack slowly realizes that whatever the beast is, it’s not attacking him.  In fact, it’s just sitting on him, making a chuckling sound. 

 _Hello?_  

_Hi, Jack!  By Anthar, it is good to see you again!_

Jack peers closer at the creature and sees that it is smiling.  Or at least it appears to be smiling.  As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he starts to see familiar features – a face that he has not seen in a long time.  _Murhn?  Is that you?_

The grin widens and the alien bobs his head.  Just about that time, the other three rush up, guns drawn and look immediately from the alien to Jack.  He waves his hands at them.  “Put them away!  This is a friend.”

 _I’m sorry about them,_ he thinks apologetically.  _Old friends don’t usually greet me like this._

The alien positively giggles.  _‘Old friend,’ hmm?  I see how it is._

“Jack, what the hell is going on?”  Gwen still hasn’t put her pistol away and she is staring suspiciously from man to hairy-alien-thing and back again. 

“Gwen, this is my _friend_ ,” he has to let Murhn know that is the way he has to be classified in Jack’s life now, “Murhn.  He’s a telepath, so he communicates with thought.”

 _Not just a telepath, but an empath too,_ Murhn corrects.  The other three look suitably astonished that they can hear his thoughts.  Ianto apparently directs a question toward Murhn because the creature turns his dark eyes in his direction and laughs.  _Oh, I like him,_ he thinks to Jack, _so direct._ Then he seems to return his answer to Ianto alone because Jack doesn’t sense his reply.  At any rate, Ianto looks mollified.  

 _I think we’d all like to know why you’re here,_ Jack tells Murhn, making sure to broadcast his thoughts so the others can hear them.  The other three look just as astonished that they can hear his thoughts too.

“How are you doing that, Jack?”  Jack waves his hand at Gwen, telling her without words that it doesn’t matter. 

Murhn’s eyes flick between the two of them and he grins again.  Then he becomes more serious as he addresses Jack’s question.  _I am here to find one of the Nawrok.  She came through your rift less than one Earth week ago but I have been unable to locate her._

That is highly disturbing news.  He knows enough about the Nawrok to know that he doesn’t want one loose on his planet.  _We found a body today…a body turned to glass.  Is that…?_

The work of the Nawrok, yes.  She is travelling the universe, stealing life essences in order to power a weapon.  A weapon they wish to use against my people. 

Martha asks Murhn a question that Jack doesn’t hear.  He sadly shakes his head.  _It is a long story, young one._

 _Yeah, speaking of which, do you think you can get off my chest?_ Jack nudges the body atop him.

 _You used to like me sitting on you, Jack._ The humor radiates from Murhn and he bounces lightly before getting up.  Jack thinks it better not to say anything on the subject. 

 _Ah well, times change, millennia pass,_ Murhn thinks regretfully.  Standing, he reaches a clawed hand down toward Jack to help him up.  _We did have some fun together though, did we not?_

 _Yes, we did._ Jack glances at Ianto and notes with sinking heart that he hasn’t missed out on this exchange.  However, there’s nothing Jack can do about it now.  Besides, Ianto knows all about Jack’s voluminous back catalogue so he dismisses it, focusing instead on his hairy friend.   _I think we should go back to our headquarters.  You can tell us more there and we can try to figure out how to help you._

 _You do not intend to lock me in one of your cells, do you Jack?_ Murhn thinks shrewdly.

_No, Murhn, we save that for our very honored guests and you are most definitely not one of those._

Giving another of his peculiar laughs, Murhn slings a long arm around Jack’s shoulders.  _Very well, then.  I accept your offer of hospitality._

As the five of them trudge back to the Range Rover, Murhn directs his thoughts to Jack in what is the equivalent of a psychic whisper, _You and I have many things to discuss, my ‘friend.’_

 Jack couldn’t agree more.

 


	5. Now I See

Everyone is brimming with curiosity about Murhn.  Even Jack can feel it and he’s never been particularly empathic.  The emotional noise might almost constitute a cacophony for Murhn but he doesn’t seem to be too phased by it.

From what Jack’s learned in their previous time together, the alien has a sort of mental filter – one that Jack likens to being able to listen to music while working.  Murhn notices the wash of emotions surrounding him but can pick and choose which he focuses on, preventing him from being overwhelmed.

During the ride back to headquarters, the other three members of the team manage to keep from bombarding their visitor with a load of burning questions, but Jack knows that will all change once they get back.  He uses the time before they get there to decide how to accommodate the differences in communication between the two species.

As they all file around the table and take their seats – along with the other three who’ve stayed behind – Jack thinks he has a plan. 

“All right, guys, listen.  Where Murhn comes from they don’t use oral language so this will be a bit of a challenge.  We don’t have the time to teach you all to project your thoughts.  That means Murhn would be able to hear you individually but none of the rest of us would.  Great for a private conversation, not so good when you want information in a time crunch.  Agreed?”

There are nods all around.  “Good.  So.  Murhn will just have to bear with our primitive method of communication and answer our questions as best he can.  Please do try to keep your minds from wandering off on tangents, especially if you are the one asking a question.”  He smiles at Murhn.  “It does get confusing.”

_Very._

“Okay, everybody got it?”

More nods.  Always a good sign.  Of course Gwen has the first question once Jack gestures for them to begin.  “Where are you from?  And what is your species called?” 

 _Well that was quick,_ Jack thinks wryly to Murhn, who grins.  The question proves yet again to Jack that Gwen would never make much of a diplomat.  She’ll always be the dogged PC Cooper.  Luckily, Murhn takes it in stride.

My race is the Lenar.  Our planet is Nyrrkah Prime.  That is what you are asking, correct?

Gwen nods but it’s Lois that speaks up.  “Nyrrkah?”  Her mouth twists as she tries to pronounce it out loud.  “Now that’s a tongue twister.”

Murhn’s head tilts to the side.  _Tongue twister?_

_It makes a lot more sense if you have a tongue.  What she means is that the word is difficult for us to pronounce._

Ianto gives a snort at Jack’s projected thought and Murhn smiles happily.  _Oh yes.  I see._ The feeling of amusement flows from him again.  _I suppose that it is, young one._

“Why do you refer to us as young?  How old are you then?’

Jack notes that it’s a very good thing that Murhn doesn’t take offense easily. 

 _Believe it or not, I am an elder among my people.  That is why this task is my responsibility.  If my mathematical conversions are correct, at my next…birthday?_ He looks to Jack to make sure he’s using the right word.  Jack nods.  _I will be two hundred and sixteen Earth years old._

“Blimey!” Martha mutters under her breath.

 _And you don’t look a day over one-fifty_.  Jack grins at his friend.

_You always were a flatterer._

“But how is it that you speak English?  Did you learn it from Jack before?”

“Gwen, he doesn’t ‘speak’ at all.”

“Oh, you know what I mean, Jack!”

Murhn holds up a hand to stop Jack and Gwen from bickering.  _It is all right.  How to explain?_ His face scrunches up slightly as he thinks.  _I do not actually speak your language so much as I read the form and substance your thoughts.  That is why it gets confusing to me if you are thinking something different than you are saying.  I get conflicting images and it is difficult to sort them out.  Of course, feeling the emotions that go with the thoughts can help._

“But surely we have a lot of images floating around in our heads that you aren’t familiar with.  And when you talk to us, it isn’t in flashes of image.  It sounds just like a voice speaking to us.”

_I am sorry, Gwen.  I cannot explain the mechanism.  I can only tell you what I observe and experience.  When I get an image from your mind, I often just know how it is called. I presume that the names come from your minds as well._

“Okay guys, that’s enough of our 'curious human' questions for now.  Let's get on to the important things.  Murhn, why is there a Nawrok on our planet?”

_As I believe I told you earlier, she is here stealing life essences from your people.  The Nawrok have developed a weapon to use against the Lenar.  They wish to enslave us.  It has been their ambition to do so for many generations but they did not have the technology before now._

“What changed?”

_As far as we can tell, they started trading with another race of off-worlders.  All of a sudden, the Nawrok are brimming with more sophisticated weapons.  They come into our settlements and kidnap our young.  We do not know what has become of the missing – whether they were simply enslaved or if the Nawrok are using them for experiments.  We have never seen any of them again after they were taken._

_I sent my people into hiding and went to see if I could discover anything.  That is when I encountered the Nawrok that is currently on your planet.  Do not ask me how I was able to follow her ship here, I am not sure, but I think I was simply pulled along through that rift and ended up on Earth._

“And are these Nawrok telepaths too?” Martha asks.

_Of course.  Our planet does not have an atmosphere like yours so sound does not travel like it does here.  If we were not skilled at telepathy, we would not be able to communicate._

“But you look humanoid,” Rachid tells the alien and Jack catches a glint in the young doctor's eyes that says he would like nothing better than to run mountains of tests on him.

“Please don't take that as an insult, Murhn,” Ianto says with a smile. 

Murhn grins back at the Welshman.  _No insult taken._

“Murhn doesn't breathe air like we do either,” Jack tells the group, “instead he respires through his skin.”

“Like a tree?”

“Ummm, something like that, Lois.  Not exactly though.”

“How do you survive in our atmosphere then, Murhn?”

 _Your planet holds enough carbon dioxide for us to survive.  It is a bit difficult if I have to do something physically demanding.  I get..._ his eyes turn to Jack, searching.  _Winded?  I think that is the closest term._

“And it's the same for this other alien?” Johnson asks, taking interest.

Murhn nods his agreement. 

_Somewhat.  We have evolved separately and they have different technologies but our peoples have similar bodily systems._

“Can she read emotions as well?”

 _Oh yes.  Even human beings have the capability to be empathic.  In fact, some of you show a lot of promise._ Murhn's gaze strays to Ianto again.  _Most of your species, however, are too wrapped up in their own concerns to even notice the world around them._

“But we can be taught?”

“We're straying from the point again, guys.”

“Right, sorry.  This is all so fascinating.”

“You can ask Murhn all the questions you like after we rid ourselves of the Nawrok.  That is, if he has the time or the inclination to stick around.  Until then, let’s focus on getting rid of her.”  Jack turns back to Murhn.  “Have you been staying hidden in the countryside since you came, my friend?”

 _Yes, after I followed her to the city, I assumed that anywhere with abundant plant life would be the best hiding places for me.  Even though your plants do tend to steal my air._   He chuckles.

“You haven’t been in our sewer systems at all, have you?  Those are the tunnels underground where our waste water flows.”

_No, I have not been there.  I think, though, that may be where she is hiding. I observed her lifting one of those hatches you have in the street and lowering herself into it._

“We think that's where she is too.  There is another group of aliens that inhabit this city, we call them Weevils, and they tend to keep to the sewers.  We keep track of their movements and right before you contacted me, we noticed that there was a part of the sewers that the Weevils were keeping away from.”

_Anything that is at all telepathic would keep away from her.  Nawrok are all hatred and negative energy._

“Weevils aren't particularly high on the intelligence spectrum but we've found that they do exhibit evidence of psychic links.”

Murhn nods thoughtfully.  _I believe w_ _e should try there first.  If she is not in your sewers, then we can discuss it further._

“Agreed.  Get everything ready guys.  I want to show Murhn our mystery object and see if he knows what it is.  Then we’ll join you.”

After everyone heads off to grab their gear, Jack leads Murhn to his office and hands the rod to him  _What do you make of that?_

Murhn turns it over in his hands.  He frowns slightly.  _I cannot claim to have seen anything like this.  Where did you find it?_

_Apparently it came through the rift shortly before I got back.  I thought it might have come with you._

The alien shakes his head.  _Not with me, and I do not think the Nawrok brought it either.  You say it was found before you got back?  Got back from where?_

_I’ve been off world for a while, travelling.  Just got back a couple days ago._

_I can feel that you have had some great upheavals recently.  You are cautiously happy,_ Murhn looks up from the item he’s holding to meet Jack’s gaze, _and very much in love._

 _Maybe._ Jack wishes that he could tell what his friend is feeling. He certainly doesn't want to reopen any old wounds. 

_Jack, we have known each other for a very long time and you know my gifts.  Perhaps I know your feelings better than you do?_

_No…you’re right.  I do love him.  I don’t want to hurt you though._

Murhn shakes his head.  _As wonderful as you are, Jack, I have moved on with my life.  Do not fear to hurt me._

_You’re sure?_

_Jack.  Would I tell you so if I did not mean it?_

_No, I guess not._ He smiles at him.  _I’m glad to hear you say that.  Well, not ‘say’ it, obviously…_

_You are amusing Jack.  Perhaps that is your best quality._

_Are you sure, that’s my_ best _quality?_

 _Naughty!  Now stop flirting with me._ He hands the rod in his hands back to Jack.  _Or I may be tempted to do something that I really should not._

Giving an impish grin, Jack’s about to reply when Ianto pops his head in the door.   “Jack, Martha wants a private word.  I can keep Murhn company until you get back, if you’d like.”

Jack looks at him and then back at Murhn.  _Do you mind?_

_Of course not.  Go take care of your team.  I will get to know this young man in your absence._

_Be nice!_ Looking toward Ianto, he adds, “You too!”

Ianto lifts an eyebrow at him.  “I’m always nice.”

“Mmm hmm.  I’ll be right back.”

Jack gives Ianto a pat on the arse on the way out the door and then the other two are alone in the room.  Murhn looks to his new companion.

_I can tell that you have many questions for me…Ianto? That is your name, right?_

“Yes, Ianto is my name. Ianto Jones.”

_Murhn smiles his happy smile. It is very good to meet you formally, Ianto Jones. You are Jack’s boy now? His mate?_

Ianto snorts but a smile rests on his lips. “I suppose you could put it that way. I don’t think I like being classified as his ‘boy’ - that makes it sound like I'm his son or something - but mate will do.” 

_Fair enough. Your curiosity is very strong. You have things you wish me to tell you about my time with Jack?_

“I'd like that a lot. That is, if you don't mind sharing.”

_No, I do not mind. You wish mostly to know if we were mates too._

A blush tinges Ianto's cheeks but he nods. That is indeed the biggest question that he has for the Lenaran.

 _We were for a time. My species does not mate the way humans do. I suppose it is again due to our physiological differences. Jack taught me some of your ways during our time together. It was definitely...interesting._ Murhn smiles. _And of course I taught him a bit about the way we do things._

“I'll bet he loved that.”

_He did seem to enjoy himself._

Ianto feels that he should be somewhat jealous, but Murhn's easy way makes it difficult. There doesn't seem to be a negative bone in his body and thus it is hard to hate him for things that are in the past. “When and how did the two of you meet?”

_Decades ago in my lifetime.  I am not sure how much time has passed for him.  He doesn't physically look much older now but his thoughts and feelings are far more complex.  Jack was a time agent when we met; wild, charming and untamed. He did not go by the name he uses now, but I have a feeling that names with him are something that he changes like another human would change shoes.  They are good for a while but easily put aside for something different when the need arises._

Ianto nods his understanding, even though he's not sure he agrees with that summation.  Of course he knows that Jack Harkness isn't Jack's real name but Jack hasn't seemed in a hurry to change it since he started living on Earth.  In fact, he's proud of its notoriety on most occasions.  Murhn continues on despite the fact that he must know what Ianto is thinking.

 _At any rate, he was on my planet trying to make a deal for his agency with our sister race the Temar. I was a sort of...ambassador I suppose you could call it, to one of their clans at the time. Jack was so full of energy, full of fun, it was difficult not to be attracted to that._ He gives one of his odd chuckles. _I was very sad when the negotiations were complete and he had to leave. I must admit though, I was quite a bit younger then._

“What does age have to do with sadness at his leaving?”

_It has very little to do with the sadness itself, but feelings were harder to deal with when I was younger.  I was very sad for a good long while.  Then I found a new mate._

“That's good, Murhn.  I'm glad to hear that you got over your heartbreak.”

_It gives you hope that you can recover from your own heartbreak.  I feel traces of it in you._

“It's complicated.  I'm working through it.”

_I can feel that too.  I am not sure if he would appreciate me telling you or not, but Jack is hurting still.  He is not very good at expressing to others what he feels._

Snorting, Ianto shakes his head.  “Tell me about it.”

Murhn frowns.  _Is that a turn of phrase or do you actually want me to explain it?  I am confused by some of your sayings._

“It's just a saying, Murhn.  It means that you don't have to tell me.  I am already well aware that it's hard to get Jack to open up.  He's working on it too.  We're working it out together.”

 _That is good.  Jack is lucky to have you._ He frowns slightly.  _Yet you fear losing him for good.  Perhaps you fear his death?_

“Murhn, Jack is immortal. He can’t die.”

Murhn blinks and it's clear that Jack's immortality is news to him.  _He cannot die?  He never told me that._

“I don't think he was immortal when you knew him before.  It was something that happened during his travels.  He hasn’t even explained it to me.”

_Ah, I see.  Well, death is not the only way of losing someone. I believe that you know that already. You have been very conscious of his past relationships since he has returned to Earth, have you not?_

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

_You must be careful young one, that you do not hold on too tightly. Think of Jack as you would a handful of sand. The tighter you hold on, the faster it slips through your fingers._

“I’ve found that sand will slip through your fingers no matter how loosely you hold it.”

_Ah, but if you hold it lightly, do you not remain with something in your grasp at the end?  It may only be a few grains, but it is something._

Ianto couldn’t argue with that. The question was whether a little of Jack was better than no Jack at all. Murhn stared at him impassively, knowing what he was thinking but offering no further council.

“So you’re saying I should just let him run off with whomever – or whatever – catches his fancy at the moment and then welcome him back with open arms?”

_I did not say that at all. I simply suggested that you do not hold him with an iron grip. Pretty Jack needs a certain amount of freedom. He knows what is right and what is wrong. Trust him to find his own path and I am sure that he will always follow the path back to you._

After pondering Murhn’s words for some time, Ianto finally looks to him and asks, “Do you still like having your belly scratched?”

Murhn stares at him and Ianto really can feel the surprise from him.  Perhaps what Murhn said about humans becoming empaths was true.  _How in Umrhna’s name could you know that?_

“It was just something Jack said earlier,” Ianto shrugs, “about a former mate that liked his belly scratched.  I thought he might have been referring to you.”

_You are an amazing human, Ianto Jones.  If there were more like you, your race would go very far._

Giving a brief smile, Ianto nods.  “Murhn, would it be possible for you to teach me how to read thoughts and feelings?  It seems like you think I'd be able to do it.”

_If I have the time, I would be glad to.  I am curious though.  Do you want to do it for yourself or for Jack?_

“Maybe a little of both.”

_A fair enough answer.  I would be happy to be your guide.  Take a warning though, Ianto.  Sometimes the things you see in another can hurt you far more than ignorance._

“That's something I've already thought of.  I'd still like to know how to do it.  I'll deal with the consequences as they come.”

_Then I will be honored to teach you._

 

* * *

 

 

Jack jumps down, skipping the last few rungs of the ladder, and lands with a muffled thump on the wet concrete.  Gwen clambers down right behind him and they wait until the rest of the team are assembled before following Ianto off in the direction indicated by his PDA.  Ianto is calm and self-assured as he strides ahead.  Jack scans the darkness beyond the light thrown by their torches, senses on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. 

The air is thick with tension, primarily because nobody knows what to expect from the Nawrok.  None of them, save Murhn, has ever met one of them.  He's tried to inform them of what to expect but considering that their peoples are at war; Murhn’s vision of his enemies is bound to be biased. 

As they near their destination, Ianto slows and everyone follows his example.  He makes a motion with his hand and they spread out a little.  There is a faint glow of light from the crossing tunnel ahead.  It’s not very bright but bright enough that the team can see without their torches, so one by one, they shut the lights off.  It wouldn’t pay to tip off a hostile enemy to their approach. 

Stepping forward, Jack settles his hand on Ianto’s shoulder, drawing his attention to him.  With a little nod backward, Jack indicates that he wants to lead the way and Ianto lets him.  Jack moves forward with a slow and quiet step, scouting carefully while the rest of the group waits. 

His gun at the ready, Jack peers around the corner of the crossing.  The sewer passage is longer than it seemed in the schematic so he gestures to the others to hold their positions and prowls further down the tunnel.  The light grows brighter, a ghostly shimmering, as if there are candles illuminating the way ahead, though Jack doesn’t see any light source.

Finally he emerges into the rounded end of the passage.  It is clear that something inhabits the place as there are pieces of salvaged furniture and equipment scattered about, but the room is currently devoid of life forms.  There is a nasty-looking, sword-like weapon leaning against the wall and Jack picks it up to have a closer look. 

He’s just admiring the alien inscription incised along its blade when he hears a shout.  Dropping the blade, he sprints back down the corridor, pushing himself even faster when he hears gun shots echo against the concrete.  The roar of small arms fire in the confined space is deafening but he ignores it, reaching out with his mind to find Murhn.  Jack needs to know what is happening and he needs to know it now. 

_Murhn!  What’s going on?_

Jack is greeted by an ominous silence that fills him with dread.  He wants to shout out to Ianto, to Gwen or Martha but if they’re in trouble, giving his position away could jeopardize them even further.  He reaches the end of the corridor, skidding to a halt as he pants for his breath.

He pauses only a few seconds before looking quickly back into the passage where he left the rest of the team.  What he sees sends an icy bolt of panic through him.  Murhn and Johnson are sprawled on the floor, Lois is sitting, looking dazed and cradling what appears to be a broken arm.  Gwen and Martha are holding guns pointed at a female alien…who is sheltering behind a very rigid Ianto and holding a clear, pointed device against his temple.

“No!”

Four pairs of eyes swivel toward him and the Nawrok presses her weapon tighter against Ianto’s head.  Looking straight at Jack, it gives a nasty, sharp-toothed smile.


	6. Amazing Grace

There’s a wrenching in the pit of Jack’s stomach.  He’s having a horrible sensation of déjà vu, knowing how this feeling of helplessness will end.  The tip of the weapon blooms with a bright amber glow.  Ianto’s eyes meet Jack’s, calm and unafraid but with a touch of sadness.  

So many moments of Jack’s life seem to feel this way.  Time moves so slowly, moments of snapshots, barely connected with each other, no time to make sense of them.  The glow of the weapon, Jack’s arm outstretched as if that could stop what is happening. For the first time, he even forgets the pistol that he has in his other hand. 

No sound.  There’s never any sound in these moments except perhaps the thudding of his heart, the echo of the cry that has already left his lips.  Abject terror.  He’s always so afraid when a friend is in mortal peril but he can never let it show, never even admit what he’s feeling to himself.  A few seconds more and his life will be over again. 

_Take me!  Leave him alone, just take me, damn you!_

He knows it’s too late.  Perhaps it was always too late.  Jack closes his eyes, he can’t watch this again.  Yes, he’s a coward, just as John said.

The deafening roar of a gunshot echoes off close concrete walls.  Jack’s eyes flash open; his ears are ringing.  The whole thing has taken only a few seconds but the Nawrok is gone, Martha’s gun is still smoking between her palms.  Ianto stands completely still as though he’s afraid to move.  Murhn is picking himself up off the ground, moving slowly, clearly dazed.

Jack is flooded with relief and he has a terrible urge to run over to Ianto and give him a tight hug.  He wants to yell at Martha for firing on an alien that was holding a member of the team hostage; or perhaps he wants to yell at himself for not firing.  Then, finally, there is the knowledge that he should be chasing after the damned alien before it escapes.  For a moment he’s conflicted about what to do first but Gwen’s already charging after the Nawrok, following its dark trail of blood through the tunnel. 

Grumbling a curse, Jack sets off after her, leaving the others to catch up as soon as they’re able.  He’s almost even with her when they pelt around a corner and find themselves heading right for a pack of Weevils.

“Shit!”

“Back the way we came!” Jack slides to a halt and is already turning his body to make a retreat, “Now!” 

“How in the hell did that thing get past _them_?” Gwen gasps as they sprint in the other direction, back toward the stunned party they left behind. 

“Don’t know.  Don’t care right now!  Come on you lot!  Unless you all want to be Weevil bait…”

Glances flick toward the converging aliens and everyone is in instant motion.  Ianto is helping Murhn along and Jack comes up fast on his other side, lifting him up and sweeping him along. 

“What about the Nawrok, Jack?”

“She’ll have to wait.”

_Immediate problems, young one.  We have to get out of here first._

“Exactly.  Less talking, more running.”

That is the extent of their conversation until they finally scramble out of the sewer just in the nick of time.  Jack slams the grate back into place right as the first of the Weevils catches up and he gives it a face full of spray for good measure.  The team can hear its wounded cries moving away from them, back down the ladder toward its fellows. 

Finally they can all pause and catch their breaths.

“So what now, Jack?  The alien has just disappeared and there’s a crowd of Weevils between us and where it left its things.”

“We’ll figure something out.”  His eyes take in the state of the people surrounding him.  Lois is in obvious pain, clutching her arm close to her body.  Martha and Johnson almost had to carry her up the ladder.  Johnson’s cheek is bruised and already swelling.  “Let’s get these two back to the hub first,” he indicates Lois and Murhn, “so that Rachid can get them fixed up.  We obviously need a better plan anyway because that thing knew we were coming.”

“Do you think she might have actually used the Weevils against us?”

“Murhn said that they would stay away from her,” Ianto points out mildly.  He seems to be very composed for a man so recently in mortal peril.  Jack smiles.  That’s his Ianto.

“How do we know that they would though?  Maybe she’s been communicating with them all along and that group let her run through while they came after us.  It seems way too convenient that they just happened to be around the corner waiting.” 

“Gwen has a point.  It does seem rather unlikely that the Weevils would be randomly gathered there.”

_Whatever the case, I don’t believe she will stay here.  She may or may not have known that we were coming but now she certainly knows we’ll be back.  Unless we’re very lucky and she dies from her wound, which I don’t think likely, she will return for her things and then find a new place to hide; which is unfortunate for us because now we have no idea where she will be._

“Do you think there’s a way we could get back in there to hide a tracker with her things?  We have some in the Range Rover.”

Jack looks down at the grate, then back at Martha and winces.  “To be honest, I don’t really fancy death by Weevil right now and I’m the only one that could do it.  Let’s just get back to HQ and we’ll decide more there.  All right?”

Gwen looks ready to argue but after meeting his gaze for a long moment, she finally gives a grudging nod.  “All right.  Back to the warehouse.”   

 

* * *

 

 

Just down the hall Ianto Jones is working, his sleeves rolled up to the base of his well-shaped biceps.  Jack can hear him tapping away at the keyboard of his workstation.  He’s tracking CCTV feeds and going over footage from the area where they’d encountered the Nawrok.  Lois is there with him, making suggestions since she can’t type very effectively with one hand.

Gwen and Martha are having a discussion in the conference room and Jack…well, if he’s honest, he’s feeling a bit useless.  He’s supposed to be the man with the plan and right now he hasn’t got one.  What he wants most is to wrap this mystery up neatly and quickly so that he can sweep Ianto off onto a new adventure. 

He drifts into a flight of fancy about what they’ll do and he doesn’t even notice when the sound of typing stops next door.  However, he certainly does notice when Ianto’s face hovers into view.  He smiles and leans down for a kiss.  “Hard at it, I see.”

“Mmm, not yet but you could always give me a hand.”

He straightens with a laugh.  “Not right now, Jack.”

“Find something?”

“Nothing at all,” Ianto sounds frustrated.  “Weevil activity seems normal.  Nothing on CCTV, no sightings, no more strange glass-like bodies found.  It’s like she just vanished.”

“The rift?”

“No unusual activity there either.  Not to mention we still have her ship.”

“No, we don’t.”

The two look over sharply to the doorway and spot Johnson standing there.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone – or something – broke into the facility where it was being stored.  A facility, I might add, that was supposed to be highly secure.  Three glass guards were found in the complex.”

The two men share a glance.  “That’s it then.  She has who-knows-how-many life essences and a space ship capable of rift travel.  We’ll never find her now.”

Jack frowns as he looks back to Johnson.  “I thought you said before that the ship crashed and wasn’t in working order.  How was the Nawrok able to get it going?”

She sighs and makes an annoyed motion with her hand.  “You know scientists and their drive to tinker with things.  We apparently fixed it for her.”

“Brilliant.  And here I was looking forward to a nice trip back to the Triangulum Galaxy.”  Jack sighs as well.  “Looks like that will have to wait.”

Ianto settles a hand on his shoulder, once more comforting.  “The station won’t go anywhere and I promise we’ll have plenty to do together in the meantime.”

That does make Jack feel a lot more cheerful.  “Okay, it will have to do.  If we don’t see or hear anything within the next several weeks, we can probably assume she’s gone.”

“What about Murhn?  Do you think he’ll stay on?”

“Let’s go ask him, shall we?”

Ianto nods and stands back so that Jack can rise.  “Maybe this will give him a better chance to fill us in on the history between his race and hers.”

“If he doesn’t go chasing after her.”

“He’d have to have an idea of where to go first.  Besides, how will he get off-world to go blundering after her without a ship of his own?”

“Oh my dear, naïve Ianto,” Jack smiles fondly as he wraps his arm around Ianto’s waist, “there are plenty of ways to get where you want to go.  You just have to know where to look.”

 _Of course I will stay,_ Murhn replies when they ask him, _though I wish I could get word to my people.  If the Nawrok returns to Nyrrkah Prime, they could tell us._

“Unfortunately we haven’t got that sort of transmission capability.  The range of our communication network is quite limited by universal standards.”

_I am simply pointing out that it would be helpful._

Ianto smiles at Murhn.  “We scavenge rift debris all the time so you never know. Something useful might pop up while you’re here.”

 _I will hope that it does.  Until then, you and I have some work to do._   Murhn returns his smile.  Jack raises an eyebrow at Ianto but only gets a grin back. 

“You two are plotting something.”

“Now whatever gives you that idea, Jack?”

“Oh gee, I wonder.” 

“You’re just being paranoid.  There are no plots.”

“Hmm.”  It’s clear that Jack is not convinced.  Ianto waggles his eyebrows at him and Jack gives in, chuckling.  “All right, but this ‘work’ that you’re planning on doing better not be something to do with me.”

“Jack, how do you keep your head from exploding with the size of your ego?”

Murhn laughs and Jack chuckles, giving them both a rakish smile.  “Maybe someday I’ll explain it to you.”

“You’d better, Captain Harkness.”  Ianto moves to wrap his arms around Jack.  “This time I want to know everything there is to know.”

“Then perhaps you will get your wish, Mister Jones.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You know we’re not going to find out what this thing is,” his lover coaxes, “why don’t we make use of it once before it gets filed away in the vault?”

He does have to admit that it feels amazing. Ianto’s working the thing in and out of his ass, sending jolts of raw sensation while his mouth teases and suckles on Jack’s cock.

Jack makes sure to vocalize his pleasure each time the rod slides deep into his body.  He’s close, so close to the edge when he hears a voice that’s not his own and it’s not Ianto’s either - unless the younger man has suddenly learned to speak Tellurian. 

“Fuck…!  Stop.  Ahhh, stop, Ianto.”

Ianto obliges and a few twitching shudders sweep Jack’s body as the pleasure recedes.  They can both hear the voice now and Ianto gives Jack a quizzical look.  It’s obvious he’s about to ask something but Jack shushes him with a sharp gesture. 

Reaching down, he takes a firm but gentle grip on Ianto’s wrist and pushes, biting his lower lip and groaning softly as the object slides completely free of his body.  The voice is much louder and clearer now and Jack listens, his breath slowly returning to normal.  As the object stops speaking, his head falls back against the pillow and he is seized by uncontrollable laughter.

“Jack?”  Ianto’s voice sounds concerned.  “What is going on?”

“Can’t…oh God…can’t breathe…”  he curls up and rolls onto his side as the shudders of hilarity roll through him.  Finally the laughter slows and he can catch his breath again.  He opens his eyes to see his still concerned-looking lover peering at him.  Reaching out, Jack pulls him close and gives him a deep and probing kiss. 

“What was that about?”  Even Ianto is breathless by the time Jack lets him go.

“I know what that thing is now.”

“Well?”

“It’s a communicator.”  Jack smiles at the look on Ianto’s face.  “The fellow on the other end says that he’s glad that we’re having such a good time but could we please turn the transmission feature off so that it stops interfering with Station Centuri Gamma’s security feeds.”

The sound of Ianto’s laughter is music to Jack’s ears and as he wraps him up in his arms, he can’t help laughing right along with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always envisioned this to be a first episode to an entire season post-COE. Maybe someday I'll write it. Maybe I won't. I have so many story ideas for other fandoms on my list. However, this part of the story is complete where it is. I hope you've enjoyed it!


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